


What We Want

by Fulmonous



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Friendship, Heartwarming, M/M, Romantic Friendship, jyrus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulmonous/pseuds/Fulmonous
Summary: Life can be tough, what with school, anxiety, and relationships of all kinds.  Jonah Beck and Cyrus Goodman are the best kind of friends.  They support each other through carousel-shoe-episodes and panic attacks alike.  But when Jonah and Cyrus realize that what they want and what they're going after are two different things, will they have what it takes to follow their hearts to the destination they've only dared to dream of?





	1. Panic by Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for stopping by! 'What We Want' is intended to explore what would happen if Cyrus's and Jonah's friendship grew into something more. The story is told from the first person perspectives of Jonah Beck and Cyrus Goodman, alternating every other chapter. This work follows the cannon plot line of the Andi Mack TV show completely up until the episode 'Mount Rushmore Or Less', where it then diverges. Several of the Chapters (Chapters 1, 4, 5, and 6) pull directly from Andi Mack Episodes but provide insight to the POV character's thoughts and observations during the scenes. Ultimately, this is a story about Jonah and Cyrus trying to figure out what they want from life. In keeping with the spirit of the Andi Mack TV show, the content of this Fan Fiction is one-hundred percent family friendly.

**Chapter 1**

**Panic by Any Other Name**

**Jonah**

 

Is it normal to sweat when you wear dress clothes?  The last time I wore them was Cyrus’s Bar Mitzvah and before that… well yeah, Cyrus’s Bar Mitzvah. 

I mean, there’s a lot of people packed in here, but there were a lot of people packed at the Bar Mitzvah too.  I don’t remember my shirt clinging so tight to my chest until… until I had the panic attack.  No no no no no no no.  Not here.  Cyrus already lost his grandma, I’m not gonna ruin her Shiva too.  I can’t let him see me like this, gotta find somewhere to do this alone, even if it’s a false alarm.

I stumble through the living room, my legs wobbling like Jell-O.  My heart keeps pounding faster and faster and my stomach feels like it’s twisting into a knot.  There’s this pressure massing in my head.  It stretches to my toes and they curl up tight, which makes it even harder to walk.  I squeeze my hands into fists, and my knuckles turn ghost white.  It’s taking everything I have to hold back the panic attack.

I shuffle down a hallway to an empty room away from the Shiva.  Luckily there’s a couch; I collapse onto it and pull myself up to sit.  But I can’t get comfortable or lean against the backrest – my body’s shaking.  I’m losing control and I’m _so_ glad all these people are more oblivious than me.

But what has me going like this?  It’s been so long since I had one of these.  Just take a second, breathe, think.  Think, think, think.

Things are tough at home since we lost the house, but we’re all still together, that’s all that should matter.

I need to learn sign language so I can talk to Libby, just don’t want to, and don’t know why.

And Amber is confusing me all over again.  I should be venting to Cyrus, Andi, and Buffy, not her.

I just… I just don’t want to feel different.  I don’t want to be Jonah Beck with money problems.  I don’t want to be Jonah Beck who refuses to learn how to talk to his _girlfriend_.  I don’t want to be Jonah Beck who has panic attacks.  I just want to be _Jonah Beck_.  But I can only do that if I open up about my feelings.  And if I open up about my feelings, I’ll feel different.

Maybe the people who matter would see me the same if I opened up though.  I mean, Cyrus helped me get over my stupid grudge and still treats me like me.  He’s always there for me, no matter what.  I trust… I trust h- huh… phoo… huh… phoo… huh… phoo…

*******

Everything collides, collapses, falls apart.  I live a lie, not a life, grasping for happiness, empty as the air around me.  I only have my thoughts, and they only betray me.  No comfort, only grief; no salvation, only devastation.  Goodness is the lie, elusive as my freedom; freedom, my wish, will never be.  Never ending, always here.  This is me, real me.  I collide, collapse, fall apart.  This is me, real m-

“Jonah?” Cyrus says, entering the room.  He sees my gasps, my panic, my fear, despite my best effort to hide it all from him.

“Jonah!” He rushes toward me, kneeling and grabbing my arm.  His touch sends a shock that helps me focus on him.  “Hey, you’re okay.”

No, I’m not.  I can never be okay like this.

“You know what this is,” he says.  “It’s a panic attack.  It will end.”

My heart jolts upward as if a spike had run it through.  I meet his eyes and shake my head. “No.”

He doesn’t hesitate.  “Yes, it will,” he says.  “I’m here, I’m here.  You’ll get through this.”

“No,” I say, the sound muffled by gasps for air.

Cyrus leans in slightly, gripping my arm a bit more firmly, and hoists me further back on the couch.  “Yeah, up here, up, up.”  I do what I can to help him, though he doesn’t seem to need it.  “There you go, there you go,” he says.  “That’s better.”

“Cyrus, I- “

“Shhh!  Don’t talk,” he says.  “Don’t talk.”

I can’t do this to you, can’t ruin Shiva.  But there’s glint blazing within his eyes – he’s not going anywhere.

He keeps his eyes trained on me the whole time.  “I know it feels like you’re gonna die, but you won’t.”  He draws in a deep breath so easily it makes me jealous.  “But if you did, we’re all set up for Shiva.”  A tingling sensation tickles my spine and the gasps for air fade to laughter.  He broke me free, just by being him.

I laugh a bit longer, then take a few breaths, Cyrus kneeling in front of me the whole time.  He doesn’t flinch, just stares with his soft eyes, waiting for mine to show him I’m okay.  And I guess they do just that when he says, “Want some water?”

“Cyrus, you- “

“JB,” he says dramatically, grabbing my other arm with his free hand.  “It’s a yes or no question.”

And I must be doing that smile everyone loves, because he grins ear to ear.  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says.  He releases my arms and stands.  “BRB JB.”  He does a quick spin on his heel and strides from the room.

“You crack me up, Cyrus.”

“Always have,” he shouts from the hallway.

I grin and shake my head.  You do so much more than crack me up.  I lose myself every time I have a panic attack.  The thoughts swirling around my head aren’t me, but the panic has a way of convincing me they are.  Usually there’s no way out until the panic decides to stop torturing me, but Cyrus…  I don’t know what I’d do without Cyrus.  I’ve never deserved a friend like him – I don’t know how he can even stand me. 

“I didn’t want us to look like a couple of dorks,” I mumble, shaking my head.  That’s the kind of thing I say to Cyrus.  And all he wanted was to wear matching jerseys.  Meanwhile, Cyrus pulls me out of a panic attack without hesitation.

“Hey,” he says walking into the room, holding a glass of water.  He sits on the couch and hands it to me, the glass cold and smooth to the touch.  “Thanks,” I say before taking a sip.  “That was a really bad one.”

“But it’s over now,” he says.

“I don’t think they’re ever going to be over,” I say.  “I mean, I haven’t had a panic attack in a while, I even stopped worrying about them, and this one, it just came out of nowhere.”

“That can happen.” He nods.

“I just wish for once, someone would say something positive, even just, ‘They’ll get easier.’  But they won’t, will they?”

“They come and go.  That’s what you have to remember.  They go,” he says, his voice so sure.  “When you’re having one, you just have to keep telling yourself, “This will end.”

Easier said than done, all those thoughts… but still, he makes it sound like it could be easy.  “I wish you could always be there for them,” I say.  “Wouldn’t that be fun for you?” I chuckle and then it feels almost like something flicks me in the brain, around the same spot where the pressure started to grow.  I stop chuckling.  “Sorry.  That was a horrible thing to say.”

“No!” Cyrus says.  “No.  It’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

Cy…  “I never knew how much I’d need a friend like you.”  His look is so gentle, so welcoming.  “Why’d you even come looking for me?”

“Uh, I… There was a reason.  I can’t remember it now.”

All of my drama probably made him forget.  He always puts everyone ahead of himself.  He always puts _me_ ahead of himself even though I don’t deserve it.  I’ll be better Cy, I promise.  I’ll be there for you from now on, just like you are for me.  Maybe I can try to take his mind off of this.  “I’m suddenly starving.  Is there food?” I ask.

“Is there food?” He giggles, nudging me to follow.  Food has its own way of dominating the mind.

  *******

On the way to get food, we meet up with Andi and Buffy, who follow us into the kitchen.  When we get there, Cyrus stands tall and confident.  “Help yourselves,” he says.  “If there’s anything you don’t recognize, don’t hesitate to ask.  I’m Cyrus Goodman, I’ll be your buffet tour guide.” _Oh, Cyrus._

The three of them walk over to the far end of the table.  Cyrus glances back at me, before turning back to Andi and Buffy.  They talk about something, but I can’t hear them.  Is he telling them about my panic attack?  I look down at the food, all foreign to me.  No, he wouldn’t do that.  I glance back at them, then back at the food.  Would he?  “Cyrus, help,” I say.  “I’m not recognizing anything here.”

He steps toward me, pointing out different foods.  “Okay, well, that of course is Aunt Ruthie’s kugel.  Uh, that’s your classic bagel and lox.  That’s gefilte fish, skip that, and I’m gay.”

Wha-.  I look up from the food and my shocked eyes are met by his puppy eyes.  He’s absolutely terrified, like in an instant, his whole world could just come crashing down depending on what I say right now.  He wasn’t telling them about my panic attacks.  He didn’t forget the reason he was looking for me.  He wanted to tell me this, but he was scared.  He is terrified.  Cy, I’m sorry I’m such a jerk.  I’m sorry I ever made you feel scared to be yourself around me.  He wants acceptance from me, the last person he needs it from. 

But that’s the thing: for some reason, he feels like he needs me.  He’s looking for my acceptance.  “Yeah?” I ask.  He nods cautiously, breath held, arms stiff, muscles tense.  And I’m not gonna let him down.  I smile, “Okay, cool.”

He releases his breath.  “Okay,” he says.  His arms loosen up, his muscles start to relax.  “Cool.”

I can take his mind off this too.  I look back at the gefilte fish, bracing myself as I grab it and plop it into my mouth. 

He was definitely right about skipping it.  “Ugh, this is awful!”

“Dude, I told you to skip the gefilte fish!”  I know, but it relaxed you, so it was worth it.  I spit it out into a napkin.

He looks back at Andi and Buffy, both of them smiling.  “I didn’t expect this to be the hard part.”  He grins.  And I didn’t expect you’d think you needed me as much as I need you.  So, I’m not going anywhere either.

*******

We finish eating and the four of us go outside to sit and talk.

“It’s true,” Cyrus says.  “Bubbe Rose would sneak cantaloupes into the movies.”

 _Yeah, okay…_ “How would she do that?” I ask.

“You really want me to tell you?” he asks, a bit of both seriousness and sarcasm riddled in his voice.

I look over to Buffy and she has a patient smile that says she knows there’s more to the story.  Then I look back at Cyrus, his lips bent into a slight frown – a frown that’s trying to hide.  “You really miss her, don’t you?” she asks.

“She thought I was the greatest person in the world,” he says.  “She believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in me.”

I think that’s all we can really ask for from the people we care about.

“I wish CeCe believed in me,” Andi says resigned.

“What are you talking about?” Buffy says.  “She’s your biggest fan.”

“Yeah,” she sighs.  “Well, not today.  She doesn’t want me to make the centerpieces for Bex’s wedding.”

I love Andi – I really do – but now’s not the right time.

“Okay,” Cyrus says.  “So, she’s not perfect.  But you know what she is?”

Andi’s eyebrows scrunch in.  “Still here,” Cyrus says.

But Cyrus never misses an opportunity to make one of us feel better.  Even when he’s the one who needs to feel better.

Her eyebrows rise, slightly, and she places her hand on top of his.  “I’ll be right back.”  She gets up and leaves, probably to look for CeCe.  I’m pretty sure she realized that now wasn’t the right time.

But that’s the thing, Cyrus _always_ says the right thing at the right time.  We have limited time together.  The four of us, my family, everyone.  But what matters is that we have any time together at all.  A house doesn’t make a home, a family does.  So, as long as we have our family, we’ll always have our home.  We may have lost our house, but not our home; my family is still together, so that’s the only home we really need.  Cyrus _always_ says the right thing, and I think that’s why the Good Hair Crew became my second home.

  *******

“She’s cute, yeah,” I say.  I’m surrounded by older women inside the house.  They’re all showing me pictures of girls my age.

“She wants to be a model,” one of them says.  Yeah, she might have a chance at that, but I do already have a _girlfriend_. 

And I _really_ hate that word, or not so much the word, but labels in general.  Maybe it’s because Amber used to force that label on us.  Or maybe it’s just the wrong label for me and Libby.  Or the wrong label all together.  But it doesn’t help that I have all this pressure on me to date girls who want to be models.

Maybe I just want a break from being surrounded by girls.  And maybe that’s why… why I refuse to learn sign language.  Because dating Libby just isn’t what I want.  Maybe what I want right now is to figure out what I really want, what I’m willing to label.  So maybe that means I need to break up with her.  And maybe that’s just what I’m gonna have to do for me, even if it breaks her heart.

I look up from the phones and tune out the old ladies.  TJ is here now, holding a loaf of bread, Cyrus practically glowing while they talk.  I love seeing Cy so happy – especially after losing his grandma – and it’s been a while since I’ve seen him like this.  I mean, sure, Cyrus is usually pretty peppy, but I haven’t seen him glowing like this since… since we first became friends.

Early on, he used to glow around me, but I always thought that was just him – it is him.  I just figured he mellowed out, but this glow is the same as before… just calmer. 

Does he… like TJ?

Did he… used to like me? 

Does he still?


	2. The Best Kind of Need

**Chapter 2**

**The Best Kind of Need**

**Cyrus**

 

It really is too bad that Andi and Buffy had to leave, but I get it.  Andi’s _so_ busy planning for Bex’s wedding and Buffy has _such_ a long drive to get home.

“I’ll take winner,” TJ says, leading me and Jonah down to the basement.  “Which should be Cyrus based on last game.”

I shrug.  “What can I say?  I have wicked ping pong skills to make up for every other sport ever.”

“I don’t know,” Jonah says.  He turns his head just enough to flash a quick dimple (which may or may not make my heart think I’m about to audition for a movie in front of 47,000,000,000,000 people).

When he steps off the bottom step, he swirls around casually and says, “Maybe I’ve been practicing.”  He gives a coy shrug and cocks his head to the side, just enough to show off the dimples at a new angle.  He spins on his heel and strolls to the far side of the ping pong table.

I step up to the table, and TJ’s waiting there for me.  He gives my shoulder a squeeze.  I look at him, a cocky smile slapped across his face while he stares ahead at Jonah.  “My money’s still on Goodman,” he says.  I look down the table at Jonah and grab my paddle.  TJ ruffles my hair.  “Go easy on him,” he says, taking a few steps back to lean against the wall.

“I guess we’ll see,” Jonah says, dimples unrelenting.  “Ready?”

I nod.  “Your serve.”

He grabs a ball and serves it quite generously.  Generous or not though, it doesn’t stop it from whizzing by my head before I can even swing the paddle.

“Point: Jonah one, Cyrus zero!” TJ says.  “You’ve got this Goodman.”

“Your serve,” Jonah says, a smirk slid across his face.

“Um…”  _Dimples.  Dimples.  Dimples._

  *******

“Point: Jonah eleven, Cyrus zero.  Game: Jonah wins!” TJ announces.

I slump.  “My sorta undefeated streak comes to an end.”  I sigh.  “You have been practicing.”

Jonah smiles almost as much as he did during the Minyan and cocks his head with another shrug.  I smile back and hand my paddle to TJ, now standing beside me.

“Don’t worry,” TJ says.  “I’ll stop his streak from getting off the ground.”

“We’ll see,” Jonah says.  He shrugs again.

I walk over to the wall and lean against it.  The dimples (may have) caused a slight hiccup, but it’s still good to see him smile like this, especially after his panic attack.  I really hope he never has to go through another one.  And I’m glad he didn’t have to go through this one alone.

Going through anything alone is scary… panic attacks, exams, walking by lawn flamingoes.  Coming out.  That’s scary in just about every situation I can picture.

At least he didn’t make it a big deal.  He definitely could have if he wanted to, but he didn’t.  Actually, he made it about the smallest deal ever.  Maybe I should try that.

It really shouldn’t be such a big deal to me.  Buffy, Andi, and Jonah have all been totally accepting of the whole gay thing, so I don’t know what my deal is, or why there’s even a deal at all.  I just wish coming out could be over, but I still have to tell the whole family.  And mom isn’t particularly talented at keeping secrets, so once she knows, that might as well mean I’ve come out to the whole family and school.  Including TJ.

And TJ has to hear it from me first, but the thought of telling him at all right now… I just don’t want things to change.  I really don’t want things to change. 

I guess, eventually, coming out will end though, even if it takes a while.  Just like I told Jonah about his panic attacks.  Everything scary has to end eventually, and at least I have the whole Good Hair Crew to back me up now.  (And I guess I always did.)

“Point: Jonah eleven, me three.  Game: Jonah wins again!” TJ says.

I missed the whole game… and Jonah beat TJ?!  Did he… was he letting me win when we played a few weeks ago?  Why would he do that?

TJ pulls his phone from his pocket and glances at it.  “Sorry guys, gotta go.  My dad’s here to get me.”

“Want me to walk you out?” I ask.

“Nah, you’re good man.  I know the way.”  He starts up the stairs, pivoting his head just enough for me to see the sly grin on his face.  “Very funny, TJ,” I say. I shake my head as he barrels up the stairs.

Jonah sets down the paddle and parades over to me.  He’s smiling kinda like he just found out ultimate frisbee got voted ‘The Best Sport Since Sports Became a Thing’.  He leans his back against the wall and slides down until he’s sitting beside me.  I do the same.

“Jonah?”

“Cyrus?”

“Did you let me win last time?”

“Well, technically, we didn’t finish playing last time.”  He grins.

“Correction,” I say.  “Were you _letting_ me win?”

He shifts his body to face me, a sage smile spread across his face.  “You really want me to tell you?”

I turn to face him too, shaking my head and smiling.  He’s trying to hide that he’s biting his lip behind his own smile.  He doesn’t wanna tell me.  “Nah,” I shrug.  “I’ll just chalk it up as the one and only time I beat Jonah Beck.”

“ _Was beating_ ,” he corrects, no longer biting his lip.

He’ll tell me when he’s ready.  Which reminds me…  “Hey JB?”

“Yeah CG,” he says.

“Thanks.”

His brow furrows.  “For what?”

“For not freaking out about…”

“Freaking out about what?” Mom says, scrambling down the stairs.

I jump to my feet and spin around to face her.  “Uh…”

I CAN’T tell her.  I know she’ll still love me, but I’m NOT ready for the whole school to know.  I’m NOT ready for TJ to know!  What do I do?  What do I say?  What…

There’s a light squeeze on my shoulder.  I look to my right and Jonah is standing beside me looking straight at Mom.

“About the gefilte fish,” he says.  “Cyrus told me I should skip it, but I tried it anyway and I feel sick now.”  THANK YOU SO MUCH JONAH!!!

Mom’s eyes widen and she slaps her hand over her mouth.  “Oh, I’m so sorry honey!  Nobody really eats the gefilte fish, so we’ve never had something like this happen before.  Are you okay, can I get you something?”

“Yeah,” he says.  He takes a quick peek at his phone.  “I’ll be okay.  My mom just texted me, said she’d be here in a few minutes.  I’m gonna go out front to wait for her.  Thanks for having me.”

He gives my shoulder another light squeeze, then lets go and starts walking toward the stairs.  “I’ll walk you out,” I say.

“Good idea,” Mom says.  “The fresh air might be good for you.  Cyrus, take him through some of your breathing exercises while you’re out there!”

 _I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but…_   “Okay Mom, good idea.”

I walk close beside Jonah, a hand on his back.  Once we’re up the stairs and heading toward the front door I say, “Is your mom really almost here to get you?”

“Maybe.”  He shrugs.  “But she hasn’t texted me yet.”

  *******

We step out the front door and walk down to the end of the driveway.  I sit beside him on the curb.

“Thanks for that too,” I say looking straight ahead.

“I’m here for you Cyrus,” Jonah says, his voice shaky.  He turns to look at me.  “You know that, right?”

I turn to face him too, and his eyes are glazed over, just on the verge of tears.  I place a hand on his shoulder in support and he breaks eye contact, only for a moment, before looking back at me.  “Of course I do, Jonah.”

His eyes tremble and flick away.  His head droops toward the pavement.  “I’m sorry, Cy.”

I strengthen my grip on his shoulder.  “For what?”

He forces a shaky breath in, then out, and lifts his head.  His eyes reluctantly meet mine again, but he doesn’t speak.

I lean in, only slightly, and say, “It’s okay, Jonah, I’m here.  It’s just me.”

He takes another deep breath, this one even more labored than the last.  “Cyrus I… The fear I saw in your eyes earlier – when you told me.  It looked the exact same way I always feel when I’m having a panic attack – or what I imagine my feelings would look like, anyway.  The intense fear that makes you feel like everything around you is falling apart, the desperate longing that each second can be over so you don’t have to be afraid anymore, and the hopeless wish that it’ll never happen again.  That’s what I feel when I have a panic attack.  Every.  Single.  Time.  And when I saw that same look in your eyes; that fear, longing, hopelessness – I know what all that feels like and wish, more than anything, that I didn’t.”  He lets out a soft, defeated sigh, but he doesn’t break eye contact.  “And I’ll never be sorry enough that I was part of the reason you felt that way.”  His head slumps.  “So, I’m sorry, Cy.  I’m sorry I can’t be the friend you deserve.”

…

… I…

I don’t even know what to say (which may be a first for me).

I never realized how much Jonah cared about… well, anything.  I mean, that sounds harsh; of course he cares and of course I know he cares.  But I never realized how much emotion he bottled up inside until it all came flooding out right now.  I’ve said it before (and I’ll probably say it again), but I’ve been wrong about a lot when it comes to Jonah Beck.  But I do know that he needs a friend right now.  And I’m not sure that words can cut it alone.

I pull him in, wrapping my arms around him in a hug.  And he doesn’t fight it one bit.  At first, he just sniffles a bit on my shoulder.  Then he clears his throat a little.  But finally, he weeps, first slow, eventually quicker.  All the while, he leaves his arms in his lap, until, very slowly, he inches them up my back and squeezes.  And he weeps, a soft, yet oddly powerful weep.

And it doesn’t feel like I imagined it would feel to hug Jonah Beck (for this long).  But it feels nice, all the same.  Nice to know he trusts me so completely that he’s comfortable enough to let us hug.  Nice to know I trust myself enough not to blow out of proportion exactly what this is: two best friends who need each other.  And nice to know that even though I’m fully aware that I want us to be more than best friends (despite my desperate attempts to convince myself otherwise), being best friends is more than enough if that’s all we’re meant to be (because what _we_ want together means more to me than what _I_ want alone).

But after a while, the weeping slows down, until it eventually ends and Jonah pulls himself gently from the hug.  “Cyrus,” he starts.  “I…”

“Shhh,” I say, quieting him.  “Don’t talk.”

He nods, his eyes no longer trembling.

“Jonah,” I say.  “You are my _best_ friend.  You, in no way, have ever made me feel that fear, and I’m so sorry I gave you that impression.  I know you, JB, and there is nothing you could ever do to make me feel that fear, so please don’t feel down about yourself.  You are always there for me when I need you most – I mean, you just jumped in on the spot and saved me from having to come out to my mom WAY before I’m ready to, because let’s face it: coming out to her means coming out to the whole family, plus the whole school all at once.”

He chuckles, a weak smile breaking through his gloomy disposition.

“I _always_ knew you would accept me for _exactly_ who I am because you’ve already proven that that’s exactly who you are: someone who never gives up on his friends, no matter who they are.  I was never afraid of telling you, specifically.  I’m just afraid of telling people, in general.”  I let out a weak sigh.  “Sometimes, it’s just really scary to feel like you’re different and it’s just easier to keep a big secret.  But keeping that secret from people who are really important to me – like you – started to eat away at me.  So, even though I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to tell anyone, I had to tell you because you’re _you_.  And _you_ are not just anyone.  Does that make sense?”

He nods.  “I know exactly what you mean.”

He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else, but he hesitates.

“Go ahead,” I say.  “It’s just me.”

He gives me a half smile and looks like he’s about to say it, but then headlights shine down the street, distracting him.  A car pulls up to the door and there’s a click as the passenger door unlocks.  “My mom’s here to get me,” Jonah says, a little bit bashful.

“It’s okay,” I say.  “Go ahead.  Whatever it is, you can tell me whenever you’re ready.  I’ll be waiting.” 

He looks at me unsure, but I smile.  “Really, it’s okay Jonah.”

He smiles a Jonah smile for the first time since we came outside.  “Thanks, Cy.”

We both stand and he gives my shoulder a light squeeze before heading toward the car.  He places his hand on the handle, but before he opens it, he looks back at me.  “Hey Cyrus?” he says.

“Yeah Jonah?” I say back.

“You’re my best friend too.”  He smiles and I know I do too because his smile gets even wider.  Then he opens the door and jumps in the car and I wave as the car drives away.

I start walking up the driveway, toward my house, a cool night breeze blowing that I hadn’t noticed before with all the commotion today.  I really hope Jonah finds the courage to face whatever he has bottled up.  Because one thing is for sure: I never thought I’d need a _best_ friend like Jonah Beck, but now that I have him, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without him.  We have so much more in common than I ever would’ve guessed from the outside looking in.


	3. Reflections in the Car Window

**Chapter 3**

**Reflections in the Car Window**

**Jonah**

 

“How was the Shiva?” Mom says while we’re pulling away from Cyrus’s house.

There’s no easy answer to that question, no answer where I can tell the one-hundred percent truth or a one-hundred percent lie.  “It was nice,” I say.  I guess that’s not a lie.  But it’s not true either.

“How is Cyrus holding up?” she asks, her eyes focused on the road.

That’s an easier question.  “He’s doing really good considering… you know.  He’ll be alright.”  _I think._

“ _Well_ …” Mom says.

“Well…?” I say back.

“He’s doing really…”  _Mom._

“I have an A in English, Mom.  It was just a long day.”

“I know,” she says smiling, still focused ahead.  “But _you_ know the English teacher in me can’t resist.”

Yeah, I know.  You can’t resist that just like Cyrus can’t resist being there for me every time I need him.  I lean my head against the window and watch my reflection flicker in and out as we drive past street lamps.

He cares so much.  About Andi, about Buffy, about TJ.  About me.  And he says I’ve been there for him all along, but that’s not true.  Sure, I wish I had been, but… but that’s not how it feels.  I mean, his grandma died, we’re at her Shiva, and he not only takes the time to pull me from a panic attack, but also lets me cry on his shoulder.  AT HIS GRANDMA’S SHIVA.  I shouldn’t do this to him.  It’s wrong that I keep doing this to him, but I can’t stop.  I can’t stop… I can’t stop needing him. 

I need him.  I need him so bad, but I can’t even answer a question about ping pong when he asks me.  And why can’t I answer?  I know the answer already, so why can’t I just say: Yeah, Cy.  I was letting you win the first time we played ping pong.  And I was letting you win because I… 

Because I… 

Because I like seeing you happy.

Cyrus Goodman, the boy who _is_ happy all the time.  The boy who only needs a few really good friends to be happy.  Cyrus Goodman, I was letting you win so you could be happy, even though you were happy just hanging out with me.

But then TJ came along and made you happier, without even having to try.  And I guess I didn’t have to try either, but I was – I was trying _so_ hard.  It just wasn’t enough.  I wasn’t enough.  I wasn’t a good enough friend.  I never have been.  And the anxiety from realizing that… it’s more than enough to cause a panic attack.  So, I had to leave.  I had to get out.  And that ‘grudge’ was the only way.  And even then, you cared so much.  You cared so much about making me happy when I could, obviously, have no care in the world about actually seeing you happy.  Because if I did, I wouldn’t make everything about _me_ needing _you_.  I’d let you have the choice to need or not need me.

“Jonah!” Mom shouts. 

I jump a little in my seat.  “Sorry,” I say.  “Yeah?”  I stay focused on my reflection in the window.

“You alright there, space cadet?  You were zoned out for a straight two minutes.”  She tries to hide the concern in her voice.  But where I’m perceptive, she’s subtle.

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.”

“Jonah, honey,” she says, no longer trying to tiptoe around me.  “You know you don’t have to hold things in with me, right?  I’ll always be here for you no matter what.”

 _We have limited time together.  The four of us, my family, everyone.  But what matters is that we have any time together at all._   Cyrus… I don’t know who I’d be if I’d never met you.  No more secrets.

“Okay,” I say.  I force a deep inhale, “I…” Then exhale all at once.  “I had another panic attack today.”

“Oh, honey,” she says.  From the corner of my eye I watch her take her eyes off the road to glance at me for just a second before looking back.  “Are you okay?  What made you anxious?  Were there people around to help you?”

“Yeah, I’m okay now, but I don’t know what caused this one.  And Cyrus was with me for most of it.  He wouldn’t leave my side until it was over.”

“Oh, honey,” she says.  Her voice breaks.  “I’m so sorry you have to go through these.  If I could I would take them from you.”  She takes one hand off the wheel and pats me on the thigh.  She lets out a heavy sigh, almost like she didn’t notice that she was holding her breath, but then realized and let go.  “I know everything at… _home_.” She chokes a little and clears her throat.  “I know everything at _home_ has been rough lately, but we will get through this, I promise.  I’m just _so_ glad you have such great friends like Cyrus to trust and confide in.”

I grab Mom’s hand, still resting on my leg, and give it a light squeeze, still looking out the window.  “Yeah, Mom.  Me too.”

“I love you so much, honey.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

She gives my leg a gentle squeeze, then pulls her hand back to the wheel.

 _To trust and confide in_.  I wish I could.  I wish I would.  So, why don’t I?  What’s holding me back? 

Cyrus’s words echo in my head: _Sometimes, it’s just really scary to feel like you’re different and it’s just easier to keep a big secret.  But keeping that secret from people who are really important to me – like you – started to eat away at me.  So, even though I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to tell anyone, I had to tell you because you’re you._   “And you’re not just anyone,” I say under my breath.

Mom and Dad aren’t just anyone.  Andi and Buffy aren’t just anyone.  Cyrus isn’t just anyone.  And _I’m_ not just anyone.  If Cyrus believes that, then why is it so hard for me to believe the same thing?

The secrets.  They make me feel guilty for burying them, they cause me anxiety for holding on to them.  They hold me back from being _someone_.

I’ve always been afraid of being different.  Cyrus just told me he’s afraid of that too, but he’s still done everything he can to be himself.  He took a leap of faith and confided in me because he trusted me.  He _trusts_ me enough to _confide_ in me.  So, why can’t I do the same?  Why can’t I _confide_ in the friend I _trust_ more than anyone I’ve ever met?  The boy who I was going to let beat me at ping pong because I wanted him to be happy.

Maybe it’s because of me.  Maybe it’s because I don’t need to take a leap of faith with Cyrus, I need to take a leap of faith with myself.  I need to _trust_ myself enough to _confide_ in myself before I can do that with anyone else, no matter how much I _trust_ them.  Maybe I just need to believe that being ‘different’ won’t change a thing.

I focus in on my partial reflection in the car window, as much, if not more, than Mom has been focused on the road since we got in the car.  And it’s funny… It’s funny what a reflection can tell us about ourselves, even if it’s just a reflection in a car window.  It’s never really the full picture – we can never really see our full self in the reflection.  But we can see enough to know when we can’t recognize the person looking back at us anymore, even though it’s the same person who’s always stared back at us every day of our lives.  The reflection never actually shows us the full picture of our self, only what we’ve told our eyes to see.  Only what we keep telling ourselves we think we want to see.  But eventually, we have to see what’s actually there to see.  What we’ve always wanted to see, even though we didn’t know it, or didn’t want to believe we knew it.  But the truth is, we do know it.  We’ve always known it.  I’ve always known it, always wanted it.  But a reflection in a car window didn’t tell me that because a reflection can’t show me who I am or what I want.  That’s up to me.

Cyrus Goodman… I was not letting you win at ping pong because I _like to see you happy_.  I was letting you win at ping pong because I _want to be the one who makes you happy_.  Because I want _us_ to be happy _together_.  And that won’t make either of us any different as long as we’re together.

  *******

“Come on Jonah, you’ve had this typed out all week, just press send.  You’re gonna wear out the carpet in your room pacing around like this, just get it over with.  If Cyrus can take a whole leap of faith, you can at least start jogging toward the jump.  You can do this, you can do this, you can…”

…do this.  _I_ can do this.  This is what I need, and even if I’m wrong about that, this is definitely _what I want_.  I can’t keep hiding behind a broken reflection.  I don’t want anybody to get hurt, but _anybody_ includes me too, so I have to stop setting myself up to get hurt.  _I_ can do this.  I can, at least, try to go after what I want, so I can figure out if it actually is _what I need_.

Press send…

Press send…

Press se…

Done.  It’s done.

It’s sent.

I’m sorry to break up with you like this Libby, but I had to make sure I did it and I never would’ve in person.  And now that it’s done…

I know it’s exactly what I needed.


	4. No More Secrets

**Chapter 4**

**No More Secrets**

**Cyrus**

 

“Okay,” Amber says.  “So, Andi has the breakfast sandwich, Buffy has the fiesta scramble, and Cyrus has the berry smoothie.”

“Actually, that was blueberry pancakes,” I say.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be picky,” she says.  She turns away to go put in our orders.  I almost get offended by the scowl morphing her face as she says it, but I remember that that’s just Amber for ya.  Waitress of the Year, and she knows it. (She also gets a pass since I got an A on my dance routine).

Just as she’s turning away, Andi stops her.  “Wait,” she says.  “Jonah hasn’t ordered.”

“Oh!  No worries,” he says, seeming a bit startled (though he doesn’t’ let that ruin his smile (like always)) “I’m good, thanks.”

As Amber walks off, Buffy looks at Jonah like he’s the stupidest (yup, I said it) person in the world.  Not really in a mean way, just a… Buffy way.  “You’re not hungry?” she asks, followed by a solitary chuckle.  “Then why did you come to breakfast?”

“Yeah, you could have slept in,” Andi says.  Her look gives off a lot more of a ‘genuinely confused’ vibe.

“I’m fine,” Jonah says, some emphasis on the ‘fine.’  “I’m just here to enjoy your company.”

Awwwwwwwww…

“That’s sweet!” Buffy says, trying to sound sincere.  “And weird,” she finishes.  Strong emphasis on the ‘trying.’  I’ll give Buffy credit; she calls it like she sees it.  I just don’t think I see it the same way she does in this instance.

Amber walks up to us with an omelet, looking all flustered.  “This guy claims this isn’t what he ordered.  Stupid, right?”

“Totally,” I say and Jonah says, “So dumb,” at the same time.  Then Andi chimes in with “You’re a great waitress.”  And we’re definitely not being sarcastic or anything.  Well, on second thought… Jonah actually might not be being sarcastic, but he’s kinda hard to read, so I’m not sure.

“Anyway,” she says, throwing Jonah a look.  “I’m supposed to toss this.  Do you want it?”

“Oh, well,” Jonah says, all surprised.  “If it’s just going to go to waste, sure.”  She hands him the plate and walks off.  And his face looks, first, like he’s just won the grand prize of the food lottery, then like he hasn’t eaten in days and is on a mission to devour the whole plate in sixty seconds or less.  He grabs a fork and knife and starts cutting into the omelet, almost if not completely tuning out everything and everyone around him.  “Oh man,” he mumbles, blissfully (and sorta adorably) unaware.

Then, I guess it’s almost like a bell dings in his head or something, because just before he takes his first bite, he looks up to see the three of us staring at him.  And his face looks as though he’s afraid that in those few seconds he was tuning us out he committed some terrible, horrendous crime.  “What?  Should I wait?” he asks, looking back and forth between the three of us.

“No, no, go ahead,” Buffy says.  He takes a bite and Buffy leans into the table, across from Jonah.  “That was pretty nice of her, huh?” she asks (though the look on her face says she’s not so much asking, as telling).

And Jonah just shrugs off the question and keeps eating.  “Amber’s a nice person.”

Buffy gives Andi a deadpan look.  “Not that nice.”

And, although I’m pretty sure I don’t see it the same way as her in this instance either, I do think something is out of place.  Sure, Jonah was oblivious about us when Amber brought him the food, but he was even more oblivious about letting us know he actually was hungry.

  *******

So, we get our food, eat, digest.  And then comes the hard part: figuring out what to do on a beautiful Saturday morning.

“We could go to a movie,” Buffy suggests.

“It’s too nice a day to go to the movies,” Andi says.  “Let’s do something outside.”

“Okay, Mom,” Buffy says, dragging the hmmmmmm just about as far as it can go.

“Hey!” Andi says, dragging it substantially less, but still enough.  “Sometimes, they are right.”

I have to say; the hard part makes the happy-go-lucky look on Jonah’s face that much more enjoyable.  Though I better speak up before we end up braving some unknown wilderness.  “Not hiking,” I say.  “I don’t want to get another tick.”

Buffy looks at me like I’m stupid (though not the stupidest), so it’s a good thing I’m well-practiced in realizing she doesn’t truly feel the way she looks at me.  “That wasn’t a tick, that was a pen mark.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” I protest.

“It was on your shirt,” she says.

“And it was blue,” Andi says, matter of fact.

Well, I mean, I guess… wait, no.  No, no, no.  “If it looks like a tick, and if it sends you down a fear spiral like a tick, then it may as well be a tick!”  I can hear the edge in my voice.

“This is exactly what I wanted to do,” Andi says.  “Talk about ticks all day.”

“Unless _you_ have a better idea,” I say.

She gets that ah-ha look on her face.  “Let’s go to Adrenaline City,” she says.  “We haven’t been there in forever!”  _Now there’s an idea that doesn’t involve the wilderness._

“And they have a new roller coaster!” Buffy says. 

 _Do I have them in my wallet?  Maybe… yes, there they are!_   “I have motion sickness patches, we’re good to go!”

“Sounds fun,” Jonah says.  “Um, but I think I’m gonna sit this one out.”

“Seriously?” Buffy ask-says.

“Yeah, I’m just not really feeling Adrenaline City today,” he says.  But his face says the opposite.

“Well, we could do something else,” Andi says.  But I don’t think he wants to do something else.

“No, I have some weekend homework I should probably start anyway.”  Jonah…

“Homework?  On a Saturday morning?” Buffy ask-say-tells.

“Jeez,” I say.  “What’s the opposite of Adrenaline City?”  But I instantly regret it as soon as the words leave my mouth.

“Snooze Town,” Buffy answers, smirking.  I regret it even more.

“Okay, guys, cool it,” Andi says.  “He doesn’t have to come if he doesn’t want to.”  And now I regret it so much I want to curl up inside a little shell and crawl away.

But Amber walks up to us, smiling, before I can get the chance.  “Did I hear someone say Adrenaline City?”

“Yeah,” Buffy says.

Amber perks up.  “I heard their new roller coaster makes one out of three people throw up.”  _Oh, then maybe Jonah has the right idea…_

“Odds are one of us could be re-tasting our breakfast,” Buffy says, teasing Jonah.  Though he and I are probably the most likely… Him because he ate so quick, and me, well, because I’m me.  “Doesn’t that make you want to come, Jonah?”  Her voice is softer now, she’s actually _asking_ this time.  She comes off a bit aggressive, but she just wants the same thing we all do.  And I know Jonah does too; the look on his face says more than his words ever could.

“Jonah’s not coming?” Amber asks, concern in her voice.  “Are you sure?  Because I happen to have two free tickets, and one of them could be yours.”

And suddenly, the look on his face alters to one of relief.  “Yeah, why not?  You guys are right.  What’d they say?  ‘You can do homework when you’re dead?’”

 _Ummmm…_   “Actually, I think it’s ‘sleep,’ but who cares?  You’re coming!”  I say.

“Unexpected twist,” Buffy says.

“Okay, I’ll just go change real quick,” Amber says.

She walks off and Jonah goes after her.  “Hold up for a minute.”

Jonah pulls Amber aside to talk and Buffy reigns us in.  “You know what’s going on here, don’t you?”

 _Yeah, Jonah’s coming with us to Adrenaline City!_   “There’s something going on?” I say.

“Tell us,” Andi says, on the literal edge of her seat.

And _so_ matter of fact, she says, “Jonah and Amber are getting back together.”

And as it would turn out, I don’t see it the same way as her in quite a few instances today.  But Jonah doesn’t want us to see something the same way as him either.

  *******

So, we get to Adrenaline City, buy our tickets (while Jonah and Amber wait for us), wait in line (forever) to get through the gate, get bombarded by those people who take pictures at the gate (yeah _, those_ people), and then we ride some rides.

Which is AMAZING!

We even ride this one that takes you up in the air and spins you around at, like, a gazillion miles an hour.  It’s two to a seat, so Andi and Buffy pair off, Jonah and Amber pair off and I fly solo (after convincing this, probably, eight-year-old little girl that it would be best if she didn’t ride with me (with a little help from Jonah)).

“Why can’t I ride the spinning ride with you?” she asked.

“Well, once I was riding on a Carousel…” I started.

“And he ended up getting so sick that he lost his shoe,” Jonah said all smiles.

The little girl looked at him like he had precisely fourteen-point-three heads.  “What does losing a shoe have to do with getting sick?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Jonah and I exchanged uneasy glances.  “Um…” he said.

“Well, I lost the shoe because I threw…” I started.

But the little girl’s mom finished for us.  “Threw a party when he was feeling better and lost the shoe in all the excitement, _right_?”

Jonah and I looked at each other, a mutual look encapsulating both fear and relief, then looked back at the little girl and her mom.  “Uh-huh,” we both said, nodding.

Though I wouldn’t have guessed it would have worked until the little girl looked at her mom, shrugged, and said, “Older kids are weird.”  And then, thank goodness, it was time for us to get on the ride.

So, anyways, we ride the ride (and I manage not to throw up!), then we ride some more rides until we come up on a photo booth.  (If her InstaPic is any indication) Amber loves her pictures, so we stop.  We all cram into the booth for a group photo and when we exit the booth and start walking away, Amber stops us.

“Wait,” she says.  “We should do a girl’s photo shoot and a boy’s photo shoot.”  And it’s not so much that we come to an agreement about this, as it’s that Amber grabs Andi and Buffy both by the arm and yanks them into the photo booth.  Which leaves me sitting on a bench outside the booth with Jonah.

After a few seconds of sitting in silence, Jonah looks at me and asks, “How’d you like that spinning ride?”

I look at him, grinning.  “It was wicked!”

“I’m glad you liked it.”  He smiles back, but it looks like something’s bothering him.  “Sorry you had to ride it by yourself.”

“Eh, no biggie.” I shrug.  “I could have ridden it with that kid if I really wanted to.  It was probably better that way in case I had another Carousel incident.”

His natural smile splits across his face and he chuckles.  “You still crack me up Cy-Guy.”

 _Always ha – hey wait, Cy-Guy… it’s been forever since you called me that.  But I can do you one better._   “I do what I can,” I say.  “Docious Magocious.”

He seems a little caught off guard.  Almost like he’d forgotten about the best catch phrase on the face of the planet.  And slowly, then all at once, his face lights up in the giddiest smile I’ve ever seen on him.  Or anyone for that matter.

“You’re turn, boys,” Amber says stepping out of the photo booth, followed by Andi and Buffy.

Jonah ruffles my hair and smiles (OMG) and we get up and enter the booth.  We sit down and look at each other, as if on cue.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jonah asks.

I nod.  “Dociously.”  (And that is now the new giddiest smile I’ve ever seen on anyone.)

We throw our arms around each other and lean in for the picture, smiling at the camera.

And I can’t help but wonder what goes on in Jonah’s head.  He’s been lighting up around me lately.  Hasn’t he?  Or am I just seeing what I want to see?  No.  No, I’m not imagining this.  The Minyan, ping pong, now.  He’s lighting up around me in his own Jonah Beck way.  Too bad the Jonah Beck way is really hard to read…

I used to light up around him, in my own (much more pronounced) way.  And I pretty much still do the same thing, though (hopefully) more discretely.  But why?  Why do I do it more discretely now?  Why can’t I just be _completely_ honest with?  Jonah’s the kid who likes everybody.  He already has all the girls fawning over him, why not add a boy to the mix?  Because adding a boy to the mix whose name is Cyrus Goodman could be a surefire way to add Cyrus Goodman to the (very short) ‘Jonah’s Dislikes List.’  And that’s something I really can’t risk.

The camera stops flashing, snapping me back to reality.  Jonah and I get up and exit the photo booth, and Amber has already grabbed the pictures.  She holds them up in both our faces.  “You two look so cute,” she says.  And I’m pretty sure my heart skips a beat or two as she says it.  My thoughts exactly, Amber.  She looks off in the distance, like something’s distracting her, and then her face lights up.  “Ooh, a pretzel stand!  Come on guys!”  She takes off toward the stand and Jonah looks at me for just a second before he takes off after Amber.  And he looks back over his shoulder once he’s a few paces ahead.

If my heart didn’t skip a beat or two before, it definitely did right now.  His face is flushed red as he smiles over his shoulder.  “C’mon, Cy-Guy,” he says, his voice completely breaking.  I remember, quite clearly, the story Jonah told me about looking back.  Which is why he’s blushing and why his voice is breaking when he does it.  He knows me.  He knows I’d remember.  He knows I know there’s more to the story now.  This might even be why he was gonna let me beat him at ping pong.

I follow and he turns his attention back to Amber, trying to keep up.  But now there’s no doubt in my mind that I have to tell him how I feel about him.  Not because I want to lose him.  Not because being best friends isn’t more than enough anymore.  Because I want more than more than enough.  Because I want us to be best friends because we both know the whole story about each other.  And maybe hearing the whole story can lead us to both find more than more than enough in each other.

  *******

We get to the pretzel stand and Andi, Buffy, and I get some drinks and fries from another stand and sit at a table, while Jonah and Amber get _a_ pretzel.  As in, one pretzel.  That they split and eat together.

“See?” Buffy says.  “They’re a couple.”

“No, they’re not,” Andi says.  “Jonah is dating Libby.”

“Andi,” Buffy says.  “They’re sharing a pretzel.”

“That’s basically middle school marriage,” I say.  _Although it pains me to admit it…_

“Guys,” she says.  “I really don’t think that that’s what’s going on here.”

“And yet,” Buffy says.  “We have evidence right in front of us.  Dipped in mustard.”  _Mustard always makes it worse…_

“Jonah didn’t even want to come today until Amber invited him,” I say.  It pains me to admit that even more.  The blushing and the look back are just what I wanted to see…

“And what about his new free food privileges at the Spoon?”  _I think I’m starting to see it the same way as Buffy now…_

But Andi’s not.  “She’s still not convinced,” I say.  _I wish I weren’t convinced either…_

“How could you not be?” Buffy ask-says.  _Fear, longing, and hope._

Wait… fear, longing, and _hope_.  Have some hope.  Have some hope, Cyrus!  “Unless,” I say.  “She knows something we don’t.”  _I really hope she does._

“Like what?” Buffy asks, facing me.

We both look at Andi.  “Like what?” I ask.

The look on her face says we’re right.  And now I just really hope Jonah’s okay.

  *******

Once we’re finished up at Adrenaline City, the three of us go to Andi Shack.  Buffy and I are sitting and Andi has her back turned to us digging through craft supplies.  Once she finds what she’s looking for, she says, “This is the first time I’m showing this to anyone.”  She turns around and walks over to us, holding a folded note.

“What is it?” I ask.

She hesitates, only for a second, then says, “It’s the wish Jonah made at the Moon Festival.  It fell off his lantern.”

“Jonah’s never really mastered the glue stick.”  But we love him all the same.

“I didn’t ask him about it at the time because we’d just invented the ‘no break up’ break up.  And then I thought I should wait for him to bring it up, but he never did.  And then all this time passed…”

“Just show it to us already!” I snap.  I need to know that he’s okay, he has to be okay, please be okay.

She hands me the note – I can feel my blood pulsing in my brain.  I unfold it.  “I wish my family could be happy again,” I read.  _Jonah…_

“What’s going on with Jonah’s family?” Buffy says, her pitch higher than normal.  We’re both seeing it the same way now.

“I think they might be having money problems,” Andi says.

“How do you get that?” I ask.

“Well, he hasn’t been ordering anything when we’re at the Spoon,” she says.

 _Oh gosh…_ “And he didn’t want to go to Adrenaline City until Amber offered up a free ticket,” I say.

“That’s why Amber’s been hooking him up with stuff,” Buffy says.  “She must know.”

“He probably confided in her because her family went through something similar.  That’s why they’ve seemed so close lately,” Andi says.

“Not because they’re dating,” Buffy concedes.  “Gosh, and I was so judge-y!  I feel horrible.”

Me too, Buffy.  Because it all makes so much sense now.  This must be what Jonah wanted to tell me at the Shiva, or at least part of it.  “I wish there was something we could do for him,” I say.

“Well, we can respect his privacy and not jump to conclusions,” Andi says.  “But right now, that’s about it.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, and Buffy does the same.

Except, no.  That’s not all we can do.  We can help him, or at least try.  Because this isn’t something he wants to keep hidden.  It can’t be – he almost told me at Bubbi Rose’s Shiva.  Keeping things bottled up – keeping secrets – is too much of a burden for anyone to bear.  He’s just _afraid, longing, and hopeless_.  He told me already – he told me without telling me.  Now I just have more of the story to piece it all together.  And this may or may not be the cause of his panic attacks, but either way, it certainly can’t help.  So, we have to do something to help him.  He’s our _best_ friend.

I lean forward toward Andi determined.  “Or,” I say.

Andi and Buffy both look confused.  “Or, we could help him get a job.”

  *******

The next day, the three of us go to Red Rooster’s Records to sell Bowie on our plan.

“Hey, guys,” Bowie says when we walk through the door.

We sit down at the counter he’s working at and Andi says, “Dad, we need to talk to you.”

“Ooh, opening with ‘Dad.’  This must be serious,” he says.

“It is!” Andi says.  “So be serious.”

He nods and lets her continue.

“Can you please give Jonah a job here?” she asks.

“Whoa,” he says, concern in his voice.  “Why?”

“I can’t tell you,” Andi says.

“Yes, you can.  I’m ‘Dad,’” he says.  And we probably could tell him.  But we can’t do that to Jonah.

Andi breaks eye contact with Bowie, looking down at the counter as if she would withdraw into herself if she could to escape the reality of what he’s saying.

He looks like he wants to say yes.  He looks so much like he wants to say yes, but also like there’s something holding him back from saying that one simple word.  “Look, I’m really sorry, guys,” he says.  “But this is a small business.  We can barely afford the staff we have now.”  It turns out there’s a lot more complexity that goes into saying that one simple word.

“So much for that idea,” I say.  _There has to be something else we can…_

A jolly voice says, “Hey!”  Jonah’s jolly voice.  I look up and he’s standing there, basically a human sunbeam like he is most of the time.  But it’s so hard to see him like that, knowing that sunbeam is fighting so hard to break through the storm clouds raging within.

Bowie turns to Jonah and says.  “Hey, I’m really sorry, dude.”  _NO!!!_

“For what?” Jonah asks, completely clueless.

We all try to quietly shut Bowie up, but he doesn’t notice.  “Not being able to give you the job they said you needed.”

Jonah looks at us, still a human sunbeam.  “Why would you say that?”  Now I wish I could withdraw within myself.

“We just really wanted to help,” Andi says.

“Help?” Jonah asks, still genuinely confused.  “Help with what?”  But after a second, the storm clouds block out the sun.  “I’m – I’m gonna go sit down.”  He walks over to a chair and slumps into it, and I’m pretty sure he’s figured out how to actually withdraw within himself.  I can only imagine what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.  And that’s why we can’t withdraw within ourselves.

“Let’s go talk to him,” I say.  Andi and Buffy don’t say anything, they just follow me to the couch across from Jonah and sit down on either side of me.

We sit there in silence for a really long time.  Jonah just slouches in the chair, avoiding eye contact at all costs.  He mostly just stares at the ground, rolling something around underneath his shoe.  But then he looks up at us, lost.  Just lost.  He looks at Andi.  Then at Buffy.  Then at me.  And it feels like he looks at me the longest.  If his eyes could talk, I’d swear they were asking for permission, the same way he looked at me in this same store right before he told TJ about his panic attacks.  So, I do the same thing I did then.  I nod.

And he nods back.  “How did you find out?” he asks.

“The night of the Moon Festival, your wish fell off your lantern,” Andi says.

“Well that explains why it didn’t come true,” he says.  He lets out a weak sigh.  _We’re here Jonah._

“What does it mean?” I ask.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Buffy adds.

“It’s just… embarrassing,” he says.  He wants to.  I know he does.  _Afraid, longing, hopeless_.

“Dude,” I say.  “You’ve seen me on a carousel.  After which, I proceeded to vomit into my shoe.”  The sunbeam finds the tiniest crack in the clouds, for just a second.

“Sometime last year, my,” he starts.  “My dad made an investment, which I guess went extremely bad.  I didn’t know anything about it until a couple months ago, when my parents told me we had to declare bankruptcy.”

“I think of that as a boardgame word,” Buffy says.  “Not a real-life word.”

“It’s kind of the same,” he says.  “Except you don’t lose your game piece.  You, uh, you lose your actual house.”

Buffy leans in.  “Where are you living?” she says.

He hesitates for a few seconds, like he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say.  “We’re staying with relatives.”

“Jonah…” Andi starts.

“I’m fine!  Really.”  He sighs, then smiles.  “We have a place to stay.  We’re still all together.  It’s just hard.”  _I guess everything worth holding onto is.  That’s why we have to hold on, no matter how hard it gets._

“Listen,” I say.  “People declare bankruptcy all the time.  They get through it, they come out the other side.  You will, too.”

He smiles, giving us a small nod.  “That felt good telling you,” he says.  “It’s like I just took off a really heavy backpack.”

“Dude, you can _always_ lean on us,” I say.

“We want you to,” Buffy says.  “It makes us feel useful.”

“You don’t have to keep secrets,” Andi says.  “You can tell us the stuff you think you can’t.  Got it?”

“Got it,” he says, smiling.  “No more secrets.”

I think we’re _all_ finally seeing things the same way now.  So, I definitely need to tell him the truth when the time is right.  No more secrets.

  *******

Later that day, Andi, Buffy, and I are walking in the park and we see Jonah and Amber sit down at a bench across the bridge.

“I’m really glad he’s had Amber to confide in,” Andi says as we watch them.

“She’s been through it, so she knows,” I say.

“I can’t believe I thought they were _actually_ back together,” Buffy says.  I laugh – I can’t believe I was starting to feel the same way.

“They were a toxic couple,” Andi says.  “I’m sure neither one of them wants to revisit that.”

“But they really work as friends,” Buffy says.

“They really do,” Andi says.

Then they kiss.  Jonah and Amber.  They kiss.  They kiss each other.  On the lips.

“Anyone else feel like their eyes are burning?” Andi asks.

I’m not so sure it’s my eyes that are burning, as it’s every fiber of my being.  There’s no way… I can’t tell him how I feel now.  Not now.  Not ever.  Cause right now, I _feel_ like I _am_ the stupidest person in the world.  And I’m not sure I want it to ever stop feeling like that.  So, it turns out that ‘no more secrets’ is far easier said than done.  For both of us.


	5. What I Want

**Chapter 5**

**What I Want**

**Jonah**

 

This feels wrong.  So wrong.  Like I’m putting the backpack on again.  I pull away from her and smile.  I guess that’s just my default.

Amber smiles back.  “So,” she says.  “Does this mean we’re getting back together?”

No.  Absolutely not.  I need to tell her no.  I need to tell her I’m sorry and that I’m clearly confused.  I should tell her that I’m prone to sabotaging anything in life that will make me happy, but that I can’t be that way anymore because I don’t want anyone to get hurt and _anyone_ includes me too.  I should tell her because I said no more secrets.  But the look on her face… she helped me when I confided in her.  She had my back even though she didn’t have to.  She’s my friend and _anyone_ includes her too.  “Yeah…” I say.

She rests her hand on my shoulder and I fight back the urge to pull away.  I just keep smiling.  “I’m happy to hear that,” she says.  She gives my shoulder a light squeeze, and it takes everything I have not to flinch.  “But I have to get back to work, so we can talk more about this later.”  We get up and she says, “Bye J-Bear.”  Then we part ways.

I head for the bridge and there’s this sharp twisting in my stomach, like someone’s tying it into a knot.  Why?  Just why?  Why did I just do that to her?  Why did I just do that to me?  Why am I such an idiot all the time?  Why do I always try to make people artificially happy?  Andi, Libby, Amber.  Cyrus.  Why can’t I at least act like I understand that happiness built on a lie isn’t actual happiness?  All I’ve done now is backed myself into another corner, just like I did with Libby.  Now, one way or another, I’m gonna end up hurting Amber’s feelings.  She’s had my back all this time and I repay her by making a decision that will end with her getting hurt.  Some _friend_ I am…

“Hey!  Jonah!” a voice yells from across the bridge.  I look up and Buffy is waving me down.  Andi and Cyrus are with her too.

Thank goodness, I need to take my mind off this.  I jog across the bridge to them.  “Hey, guys,” I say.

“Jonah!” Andi says, kinda high pitch.

“Joey Bee!” Cyrus says.  Which is really cute and… I’m a horrible person.  Just keep smiling, Joey Bee…

Buffy tilts her head to the side.  “Anything you want to tell us?” she asks.

 _Oh no._   “Huh?”

“We just saw you with Amber,” Andi says.  _No no no no no no no no no._

“What happened with Libby?” Cyrus asks, concern in his voice.  _I should have told you…_

“Do you have two girlfriends?” Andi asks.  _No!  Of course, I don’t, I… I should have told all of you…_

“Not cool, Beck,” Buffy says.  _But do you all really think I would do something like that?_

“We thought Amber was your _friend_ ,” Cyrus says.

“Well, she is,” I say.

“And that she was helping you through a tough time,” Andi says.

“She was,” I say, and I can hear the edge in my voice.

“With kissing?” Buffy asks.

“Okay, okay.  I’m not being a jerk,” I say.  “Libby and I broke up.”

“When?” Andi asks.

“A couple days ago,” I say.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Buffy asks.

“I was embarrassed,” I lie.  “She broke up with me.”  _So much for no more secrets._

“And you’re already back with Amber?” Andi asks.

“Amber?” Buffy says, annoyed.

“It just happened,” I say.  But I can’t do this anymore.  I just can’t.  “I’ll catch you guys later.”  I push my way through Andi and Buffy and keep walking.

But before I’m too far away, I hear Cyrus say, “Maybe it’ll be different for him this time around.  Amber’s changed a lot.”

Maybe you care about me too much, Cy…  Just don’t look back, Jonah.  Whatever you do, don’t look back again.

  *******

A few days later, we’re at The Spoon and Andi is all frantic, trying to figure out a costume to wear for costume day on Friday.

“Wait,” Andi says.  “Guys, hello?  We know what we’re gonna be.  Mount Rushmore.”

Cyrus moans, real slow.  He must have read my mind…

“We have the heads,” Andi says.  “And the mountain’s already made.  Please?  We’ll definitely get a two-page spread in the yearbook.”

Been there, done that.  I _really_ don’t want to wear a costume.

“It does scream photo op…”  _No! Cyrus, don’t give in that easy!_

“That’d be cool,” Buffy says.

 _Alright, alright…_ “Can I wear this?” I ask, pointing to my clothes.

“Yeah, you don’t have to do anything,” Andi says.

 _Okay, I guess that doesn’t sound too bad._   “Except paint your face gray and wear a sheet,” Buffy says.  _How is that the definition of,_ _you don’t have to do anything_? 

I must be giving them a non-default look because Andi says, “Okay, so two small things, but it’ll be epic, okay?  And for the rest of your life, when anyone asks, what was your best costume, _you_ can say Mount Rushmore.”

Uh-huh.  Just what I’ve always wanted…

  *******

The next day I’m at Red Rooster, when Andi walks in.  “Hey!” she says.

“Hey,” I say back.

“You excited for tomorrow?” she asks.

 _Huh…_ “What’s tomorrow?”

“Costume Day!”

 _Ehhh…_ “Oh, right.”

“You are going to thank me when we get a big picture in the yearbook,” she says.

“I’ve had big pictures in the yearbook.”

“Oh really?” she asks.  “What year?”

“Every year,” I say probably a little more direct than I should.

She slumps.  “Okay.  Well, some of us have to work a little harder to get pictures of ourselves out there, like Amber.”  _This too…_   “You should have seen her trying to get a photo of herself for InstaPic.”

 _Oh, believe me, I have.  More than enough times._  “She spends a lot of time on InstaPic,” I say.

“Right, so when she posts a photo of herself, you have to heart it,” she says.

“I do!” I say.  “I mean, most of them.”

“Okay, well you have to heart all of them,” she says.

“Even the makeup ones?” I ask.

“Even the makeup ones,” she says, sarcastic.

I laugh, but not really because I think it’s funny.  More because I’m annoyed and need to vent it somehow.

“So,” Andi says.  “Mount Rushmore?”

“Rock on,” I say.

Andi leaves and I pull out my phone to heart Amber’s pictures.  But I’m mad.

I am _so_ tired of doing what I have to do.  What I have to do to let Amber feel in control, what I have to do to be with Libby, what I have to do to make Andi happy.  I don’t want to do what I _have_ to do just because I have to.  I want to do what I have to do because I _want_ to.  I don’t want hearting InstaPic pictures to be more important than actually being with the person who’s posting or not posting them.  I don’t want to feel like my friendship with someone depends on my willingness to dress up in a costume.  I don’t’ want to say yes to everyone else at my own expense anymore.  I want to say yes to myself for a change.

*******

Later that day, I’m at The Spoon with Amber, when Andi walks in.  She walks up to the counter to grab her take-out and Amber steps away to talk to her.  When they finish, Amber comes back to me and says, “I’ll text you later, J-Bear.”

Andi walks toward the door and I say, “Hold on.  I’ll walk out with you.”

We start walking down the sidewalk and Andi says, “I have a _ton_ to do on the costume before tomorrow.  What’s up?”

“I forgot how much work it is being with Amber,” I say.

“Yeah, well…” she says.

“It’s not just hearting her InstaPics,” I say.  “I have to text her all the time and take selfies and hang out with her friends and…”

We stop walking.  “Amber’s not asking that much of you,” she says.  “Just regular boyfriend stuff.”

“It’s a lot of stuff,” I say, edge in my voice.

“Jonah,” she says.  “Do what you want to do, and don’t do what you don’t want to do, either way, it’s fine.  You just have to decide what you want.”  She sighs.  “Look, I’m having a day.  I gotta go.”  She sidesteps and starts to walk away, but then she turns around to face me.  She looks me straight in the eyes.  “I know you can do this.  Are you okay?”

I nod and she walks away.

And I think I am okay.  I need to say yes to me this time.  Which means I need to say no to the costume.  I need to say no to Amber before it goes on for too long like it did with Libby.  I don’t have enough time to do anything but live true and do the things I want to do with the people I want to do those things with.  I can’t keep putting myself in situations where my anxiety builds up until I have a panic attack.  I have to put my heart on the line for the right person, so it’ll stop getting crushed under all the pressure.  I need to take the backpack off and keep it off.  Even if it risks our friendship, I need to be honest with myself… and him.  I want to look back at you every time, Cy.  So, I’m done keeping secrets from you and I’m done hiding from me.


	6. Why We Bail

**Chapter 6**

**Why We Bail**

**Cyrus**

 

So, it’s two days before costume day and I’m going to meet TJ at the basketball hoops at the park.  He texted me something about having a question to ask me after school, which is cool.  I like questions.  And TJ.

I get there and while I’m walking up to him, he’s talking to some girl.  I think it’s the same one Buffy kicked off the basketball team.

Anyway, I’ve been practicing this cool (by my standards) entrance and I wanna give it a shot, so I say, “Yo!”

TJ turns around, smiling.  “Cyrus, my man!” he says, and we do that bro handshake thing, where you half shake hands, half hug.

“Teej,” I say.  “Looking good!”

We turn towards the girl.  “This is Kira,” TJ says with a notion toward her.  “Kira, Cyrus.”

“Hey,” I say.  “I, uh, actually know who you are.”

“You’re Buffy’s friend, right?” she says.

“Yeah,” I nod.  And she sorta just nods, real slow and conspicuous-like, which makes me a little uncomfortable.  So, I turn to TJ and say, “You ready?”

He nods and Kira says, “I’ll find you later, yeah?”  He nods again and we walk past her.  He throws his arm around my back, resting it on my shoulder for a second, then drops it his side.

“She seems nice,” I say.  “If nice had a different meaning.  So, you guys hanging out now?”

“Basketball, you know,” he says.  Then it’s like a flip switches in his head or something cause his whole face lights up.  “Hey, I wanted to ask you.  What you got going on for Costume Day?”

 _Wow._   “Costume Day?  You don’t strike me as a Costume Day guy.”

“I have layers,” he says, nonchalantly.  “Anyway, I have this idea.”

“Listening,” I say.

“Okay, so one person dresses up in board shorts, sunglasses, and flip-flops,” he says.  “And the other, dresses up like a saltshaker.”

We stop walking and he grins wildly in anticipation.  _Think, Goodman, think…_ “Oh!  Sea salt!”

His grin wanes a bit.  “That would’ve been good, but no.”

He has wide eyes and a grin, still in anticipation.  “Oh, no.  Don’t tell me, don’t tell me.”  Then it hits me and I smile.  “Somersault.”

“Bam,” he says, his smile taking over his face.

“Bam!” I shout back.

We keep walking and he says, “I thought it was funny.”

“It is funny,” I grin.

“So, you in?” he asks.

Is that even a question?!  “I call summer.”  His expression slumps.  “Or unless you want to be summer, I…”

“Well, I already have the board shorts and the sunglasses and…”

“I call salt,” I say.

He gives a quick grin.

I’m so excited.  I can’t believe we’re gonna do such a cool costume together and – oh shoot!  “Oh, and I gotta call Andi.”  I’m gonna have to bail on Mount Rushmore, but she’ll understand.  She has to, right?  Yes.  Yes, she’ll understand.  Who could pass up a duo costume like this?

  *******

We get to The Spoon and sit at a booth by the front window.  We place our order for some baby taters and two milkshakes, and while we’re waiting TJ has this twinkle in his eyes.  “Hey, so you know how I got that C on my math test a while back,” he says.

 _How could I forget with you running around showing people (adorably)?_   “Yeah,” I say.

“Well,” he says, fixing his posture.  “I had another math test…”

…

…

“DON’T KEEP ME IN SUSPENSE, KIPPEN!”

He grins.  “B minus.”

“Whoa, that’s what I’m talking about!” I shout.  “See, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Even math.” He shrugs.

I nod.  “Even math.”

“You know, I,” he starts.  “I just… thank you.”

“For what?” I ask.

“It’s just… ever since you told me I didn’t have to be ashamed of my learning disability, I’ve felt a lot better about it – like I don’t have to let it hold me back.”  He smiles, biting his lower lip.  “So, uh, thanks…”

“For being the only person you can talk to like this?” I ask-say.

He smiles sheepishly, releasing his lip.  “Well, that too, but… also for standing by me no matter what.”

I smile.  “You too.”  I hold out my fist and he gives me fist bump.  TJ has really helped me break out of my shell.  I’m glad I’ve been able to help him too.  Maybe now’s the time.  Maybe I can tell him.

Then our baby taters and milkshakes get here, and we start to dig in.  But I can’t get the thought of telling him out of my head.  So, now must be the right time.

“So,” TJ says, swallowing his baby tater.  “What’s going on with you?”

 _Okay, okay, now is not the right time.  Abort!  Abort!_   “Oh,” I say (and I’m pretty sure my face is as red as a red-hot chili pepper).  “You know, the…”

But then I see someone out the corner of my eye.  We’re being watched.  I look out the window, and Kira is outside on the sidewalk, walking away with her gaze fixed on her phone.

“Cyrus?” TJ says.  And I look back at him.  “You good, man?”  A sly grin slithers across his face.

I shake my head and laugh.  “Very funny.  Yup, I’m good.”

“Good,” he says.  “Cause I’ve gotta tell you about this layup I made while I was playing earlier.  So, I’m about to…”

Sorry TJ, but you lost me at layup.  The only sports I can play are the ones where the other team is blind folded.  And besides, now I really just wanna know why Kira was watching us.

  *******

The next day, Buffy and I are walking to school.  And I still haven’t told Andi about bailing… so I ask Buffy what she thinks and she reminds me that Costume Day is tomorrow.

“I know,” I say.  “I wish I could find a replacement, but everyone I would ask is already on her mountain.”

Her eyes widen.  “I think I know someone.”

 _Really?_   “You have other friends?” I ask.  “Since when?”

She gives me a look like I’m stupid.  “Let me go find Marty.”  She walks past me, on a mission.  “You’re welcome,” she shouts over her shoulder.

“Wait, Marty?  Marty from the… uh, thank you!”

I’m really lucky… I have some great friends.  And I feel really bad about bailing on Andi’s costume, but I just… I just have to.  TJ put so much thought into somersault… Andi will understand.  She’ll definitely understand.  They all will.  TJ… he’s just… I just… I think I like…  No.  Stop.  You are a lot of things, CG, but you’re no liar… at least not to yourself.  TJ’s a protective older brother, not your crush.  I’m just trying to convince myself otherwise because it’s easier than thinking about Jonah. 

Now Jonah… Jonah, I have a crush on.  Jonah, I’ve always had a crush on.  Jonah, I don’t want to stop having a crush on.  I want to tell you, Jonah.  I want to tell you so bad.  But I can’t.  I never can.  Not because you’re not worth the risk (because you definitely are).  It’s just not a risk I can take.  You’re my best friend.  Because you said I’m your best friend.  I need my best friend and you need yours.  So, it’s a risk I can’t take because it would be selfish of me to take it.  It would be selfish of me to jeopardize the friendship we’re both definitely meant for.  And I can’t do that to either of us.

*******

I get to school on Costume Day (dressed as the best salt shaker in Shadyside) and TJ jogs up to me.  Without his costume.

“Hey,” he says, almost like it’s just another day when we wouldn’t be wearing costumes.

“Where’s your costume?” I ask.  “Without you, this is embarrassingly straight-forward.”

“Yeah, I was gonna call…”

Then Kira comes out of nowhere.  “Come on, Kippen.  Let’s see it.”

They both unzip their hoodies, revealing white t-shirts with the word ‘Dribble’ written on each.  “Double dribble,” she (fake) smiles.  “Get it?”

“No, actually.”  And I’m pretty sure TJ doesn’t want to either, given the look he has that’s reminiscent of a kicked puppy.  So, I wonder how he thinks I must feel.

She turns to TJ.  “Come on, let’s go show the guys on your team.”

He looks me straight in the eyes.  “Sorry, last-minute decision.  I should have called.”  He looks like he would bury his head like an ostrich if he could.  He says he’s sorry one more time, and then they walk off.

Last-minute decision.  That just keeps repeating in my mind while I walk over to a bench.  I sit down and now all I can think about is how I almost feel bad for him.  Almost.  _Classic TJ.  Something good, I gotta ruin it_.  I’m certain that’s the thought replaying in his mind right now.  That’s the thought that’ll keep replaying in his mind for the rest of the day.  The thought that’ll keep replaying in his mind all weekend when I refuse to text him back.  That’s his thought.  Yet, somehow, it’s still not mine.  Somehow, I still have hope that he’ll come to terms with this and stop trying to ruin _it_.  Somehow, I still want him to be my protective older brother.  And even more than that, I want him to stop thinking he has to ruin all the good, not just me.

But I guess I shouldn’t be mad.  He bailed on me.  I bailed on Andi.  And this must be what she’s going to feel like because of me.  He didn’t call to give me a heads up.  Neither did I.  So, I _can’t_ be mad.  I’m feeling exactly what I deserve to feel like.

And speaking of Andi, there she is, no more than twenty steps away.  She must know I bailed on her by now.  And the way she’s fuming while she’s talking to Jonah is all the evidence I need of that.  I wonder what he thinks of me now.

Or maybe that’s not why she’s fuming.  She looks furious… with Jonah.  And Jonah… Jonah looks like he did the night of Bubbi Rose’s Shiva.  When he cried.  He starts walking straight toward me.  “Jonah…” I say, but my voice breaks.  I want to help him, but I can’t.  I have my own tears to hold back this time.  He walks past without noticing me, his eyes focused ahead.  He must have bailed on the costume, too.

We all bailed.  TJ.  Me.  Jonah.  And why did we bail?  Why do we bail?  TJ’s look didn’t tell me he wanted to upset me, Jonah’s look didn’t tell me he wanted to upset Andi, and I didn’t want to upset her either, so we don’t bail to hurt the people we care about.  We bail to _hide_ from the people we care about.  TJ from _it_ , me from Jonah, both of us hiding from the good thing that we don’t want to think about losing.  And Jonah… Jonah’s actually making good on his promise.  _No more secrets_.  He told Andi he was bailing – he told her to her face.  So, he’s not hiding; he’s facing something head on.  Maybe I should do the same.  Maybe the answer to _no more secrets_ really is as simple as keeping _no more secrets_ from anyone.  And maybe I finally want it to be time to stop keeping my secret from everyone.  So, maybe I’ll just stop hiding.


	7. Swing Set Blues and Secrets, Begone!

**Chapter 7**

**Swing Set Blues and Secrets, Begone!**

**Jonah**

 

Gotta find her, gotta find her, gotta find her.  I stayed up half the night so I _could_ do this – I can’t let anyone stop me now.  Especially me.

I get to her locker and she slams it shut, rattling the whole row.  She turns to face me and glares daggers at me, cross armed.

“I’m sorry,” I sign.  “But I’m here to explain if you’ll let me.”

Libby’s mouth drops open, and both eyes widen.  After a second, she composes herself and raises an eyebrow.  She gives me a single nod.  I nod back and keep signing.  “I was afraid – terrified – to look you in the eye and break up with you.  That’s why I sent you a text.”

She shakes her head slowly.  “Why?” she signs.

“You stood by me,” I sign.  “Even when I refused to learn sign language.  After a while I started thinking about why I wouldn’t learn it.  It was never your fault.  I realized I had to follow my heart.  In my heart, I realized I needed to go after what I wanted because if I didn’t, I’d never get to be J-Dimple – I’d just be J-Follower.  Once I realized that, I knew I had to break up with you.  You deserve someone who will commit fully to you.  I couldn’t be that person, so I couldn’t be with you because you deserve that person.”

She drops her arms to her sides and just stands there for a while, mouth slightly open, eyes impossible to read.  “Did you get all that?” I sign.

She smiles.  “Yes,” she signs.  “Where did your heart take you?  To Amber?”

I shake my head no.

“To Andi?” she signs.

I hesitate for a moment.  My heart races.  But eventually, I shake my head again.

She takes a breath in and lets out a deep sigh.  But then she just gives me a soft smile and nods.  “Follow your heart,” she signs, gently tapping her finger against my chest.  I feel my heart start to calm down as soon a she does, and I smile.  Then she takes a step closer and wraps her arms around me in a hug.  And if this is what telling the truth feels like, I wish I’d stopped keeping secrets a long time ago.

  *******

School goes by way too slow, but finally I get to leave.  I find Amber in front of Jefferson waiting for me.  This is it.

“Hi, J-Bear,” she says.  “Ready for The Spoon?”

She turns to start walking.  I have to do it now.  “Actually,” I say.  “Hold on a sec.”  She stops walking and turns back to face me.  I gulp.  “I need to talk to you about something.”

She cocks her head to the side and furrows her brow.  “Everything okay?”

No… but it’s about to be.  “I, um… I don’t think we should date each other again.”

She takes a few steps closer, concern growing on her face.  “Why?”

“Can I be honest?” I ask.

She nods.  “Always.”

“Alright.”  I take a deep breath.  “It’s just… when we were together, I always felt like there was this huge pressure weighing us down.  And I think it’s because I was always trying to keep you happy, even at my own expense.  And when we stopped dating and stayed friends, that pressure was gone.  We could just… talk.  And I liked that cause there was no pressure to make you happy.  We could both just be happy as our own self, without the pressure.  And I don’t want that to go away.”

She takes a few steps closer and nods.  “Anything else you wanna get off your chest?”

I nod back.

“Go ahead, then,” she says.

“I also like… _have liked_ someone else for a really long time, and I don’t wanna hurt you.  I shouldn’t have kissed you at the park.  I was running away from what my heart has been telling me to do for a long time.  But I have to listen to my heart.  I have to be my own person – make the decisions that feel right for me – so I can be happy.”  I bow my head.  “So, I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

She takes a few steps closer, now arms reach away.  She’s probably gonna slap me.  I deserve to be slapped.  We stand in silence for a while, but then she grabs my hands and holds them between us.

I look up at her and she’s smiling.  And then she starts laughing.  Definitely wasn’t expecting that reaction.  “Um… are you okay?” I ask.

“Okay?” she says.  “I’m great!  I am _so_ glad to hear you say that.”

“Um…”

She stops laughing, but keeps smiling.  She squeezes my hands gently.  “Jonah, you don’t have to apologize.  You deserve to go after the things you want that will make you happy.  Don’t take any offense, but I really didn’t want to date you again either.”

“Really?” I ask.

She nods.  “I was just trying to let you be happy because I thought that dating me was what you wanted.  But I like being your friend so much more than being your girlfriend.  For the same reason as you: I try way to hard to impress you when we date, even though I know I don’t need to.  It’s not healthy for me to spend so much time on InstaPic.”

I laugh.  “And,” she continues.  “It’s not healthy for you to build up a mountain of anxiety because you’re neglecting your own happiness.  You get to be happy, Jonah.  And the rest of us will be better off because of it, not worse.  So, follow your heart and be happy.  Okay?”

I smile.  “Okay.”  We hug and then I start walking away from the school.  “Starting right now.”

I start to fast-walk so I can make it to Cyrus’s house before he gets there, but Amber calls out to me.  “Jonah!”

I stop walking and turn around.  “Yeah?”

“ _Someone else_ is currently at the playground sulking,” she says.  “Maybe you can go make his day.”

 _His_ … how does she – you know what, it doesn’t matter.  I nod.  I wave her goodbye and start walking toward the playground.  I have a chance to make you happy the right way, Cy.  That matters.

  *******

Amber was right.  He’s sitting on a swing, staring down at his dangling feet, his hands clinging to the chains on either side.  This is it.  This is _our_ moment.

I walk up to him, but he doesn’t look up.  He doesn’t notice me at all, like he’s in a trance, oblivious of everyone and everything around him.  I have to help him.

I gulp.  Here goes.  “Hey, Cy-Guy.”

He jumps a little, gripping the chains tight, and looks up at me with wide eyes.  But he notices it’s me and relaxes.  “Oh, hey Jonah.  Sorry, um, how long were you standing there?”

“I just got here, no worries,” I say.  I nudge toward the swing next to him.  “That seat taken?”

He hesitates for second, glancing at the swing, but then he looks back at me.  “Nope, all yours.”

I sit down on the swing letting my feet hang.  I grab the chains and the two of us look at each other.  I fist bump his shoulder gently.  “What’s up with you, Cy?  Everything okay?”

He shrugs.  “Yeah, it’s stupid.  Nothing important.”

“Remember what you told me about my grudge with TJ that I thought was stupid?”

His eyes widen and he glances at the ground for a second, then back at me.  “It’s just,” he says.  “It’s just, TJ and I made costume plans, but he bailed at the last second today without giving me a heads up.  I was really looking forward to doing a costume with him, so I’m just bummed out.”  He sighs.  “And to make matters worse, I bailed on Andi’s costume too, so I guess I just got what I deserved.”

I rest my hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze.  “No one deserves to feel alone or unimportant.  Especially not you.”  He gives me a weak smile and I continue.  “If it makes you feel any better, I bailed on Mount Rushmore, too.”  He nods.  “And,” I say.  “Not so long ago, I bailed on wearing matching jerseys with you, too.  We all make mistakes.”  His smile gets a little stronger.  “Anyways though,” I say.  “No matter what, I’ve got your back now.  You’re important to me.”  His smile grows wider, and I smile too. 

But that’s not all I have to say.  _No more secrets_.  I pull my hand back and grab the chain, running my thumb up and down along one of the links.  “Sorry, I, um, I wasn’t really honest with you about the jersey,” I say.

He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brow.  “What do mean?”

“I told you I didn’t want us to look like a couple of dorks.  I lied though.  To both of us.”  I take a deep breath.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for all the times I’ve made you feel alone.  The jersey, the carousel, Adrenaline City.  I’m sorry for all of it.  And I’m going to make sure I’m here for you from now on, Cy.”

His eyes.  His soft, puppy eyes.  His soft, confused, puppy eyes.  I can’t take looking at them.  I break eye contact and stare at the mulch that covers the ground.  I can’t tell if his eyes look that way because he’s hurt or confused.  But if I look at them right now, I’ll cry.  And I need to be the one that lets him cry on my shoulder if he needs to.  I need to be here for him this time.

But I feel his soft hand squeeze my shoulder and I’m pretty sure my heart skips a beat.  I look up at him.  “Jonah,” he says.  “You’ve always been there for me, ever since we met.  You’re my _best_ friend.  You don’t have to be sorry for anything, and you don’t have to go through things alone either.  You know that, right?”

My problems at home, breaking up with Libby, the Amber situation.  Even when Cyrus is feeling down, he still tries to cheer me up.  I have to be honest with him.  I can be honest with him.  Being honest with him won’t make me any different.  _No more secrets_.  I gulp.  “ _I_ broke with Libby,” I say.

His eyes widen and he lifts an eyebrow.  “But I thought you said…”

“I lied because I was afraid,” I say.  “And I broke up with Amber, too.”

He tilts his head to the side.  “Why?”

“Because I like you,” I say.

I wait.  I wait for him to pull his hand away.  But he doesn’t.  I wait for him to get up and leave.  But he doesn’t.  I wait for him to yell at me.  But he doesn’t.  He just sits there, eyes wide as dinner plates, mouth gaping, all the color sucked out of his face.  Then finally, he does something I only hoped for, but never dreamed of expecting.

He smiles.  “Ohhhhh… so that’s why you let me win at ping pong.”

I smile back.  “Kinda… I just like seeing you happy… and winning was making you happy.”

He smiles even brighter.  “I like seeing you happy too… And I’ve had a crush on you since we met.”

Everything is right in the world.  Everything is perfect.  I feel myself lose control and smile so wildly that it almost hurts.  Almost.  “I didn’t realize it until recently, but I think I always hoped that was why you glowed around me… it’s why I glowed around you.”

He grins and blushes.  “You were glowing around _me_?” he asks.  “I always thought you were just being cool Jonah Beck.  And I never realized you noticed me… glowing.”

“I miss a lot, Cy-Guy, but there’s no missing that.”  We laugh.  “But,” I continue.  “I’ll admit that I probably only noticed because I was trying really hard to.  Even though I would’ve never admitted it to myself.  I was just too scared back then, but…”

The words escape me.  I can’t speak.  That fear is creeping back.  Even after all this, it’s creeping back.

But this time I have Cyrus.  “But…” he says.  He waits for a while, then squeezes my shoulder tighter, sending a shiver down my spine.  “J.B.  It’s still me, C.G.  We don’t have to go through our stuff alone.”

This time I have Cyrus.  This time, Cyrus has me.  So no, _we_ don’t.  “But,” I continue.  “When I saw you with that same glow around TJ, I started to realize how big a mistake I made hiding this from you.  So even though it might be too late now, I had to at least be honest with you.  Even though I was afraid of how you’d feel about me after hearing the truth.”  I gulp.  “You’re worth the risk.”

He smiles.  “You know, Buffy and Andi both knew about my crush on you,” he says.  “But I lied and told them it went away.”  _Which means it’s not too late._   “I was afraid that if I told you, I’d lose you.”  _Which means we’re both on the same page._   “And the closer we got, the more I learned how to be, um, cool about my glow, so it wouldn’t be as noticeable.”

I chuckle.  “It worked.”

He smiles, then continues.  “And TJ… TJ is more like my protective older brother.  He just makes mistakes sometimes, too.”  _Like everyone does._ “But I don’t like TJ the same way I like you.  I wanted to tell you about my crush so many times.  And I almost did a few times, too.  But I was so afraid of ruining our friendship.  My fear paralyzed me.  But I’m so glad it didn’t do the same to you.  Because you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear all of this.  You just made my entire week.”  A single tear rolls down his cheek.

And it’s been a while since I stopped saying this – at least since Cy, as I now know, started to hide his glow.  I tried to convince myself that I’d outgrown it, but that was a lie, too.  Now I know it was just waiting for the right time to come back.

“Docious Magocious,” I smile.

  *******

So, the next day, I’m walking to Cyrus’s house to hang out, and it’s the best weather out: sun shining, not a cloud in sight, and temperature’s just right.  Today is going to be perfect.  I am _so_ happy I told him, for both of us.  It feels like the backpack is off for good now.

I mean, I’ve never felt this way about a boy before.  Or a girl.  Cyrus is just… Cyrus.  In the most Cy-docious way possible.

I finally get to his front door, and I’m pretty sure my heart’s about to explode.  I rub my hands together, my palms sweaty.  I’m nervous.  I’m nervous because I want to do this the right way.  Because Cyrus deserves nothing less than the most perfect day ever.  But… it’s Cyrus I’m thinking about here.  _Cy-Guy_.  I don’t need to be nervous about hanging out with him.  Hanging out with him is one of my favorite things to do.  I just need to be me.  I just need to be _me_.

I reach for the doorbell, but before I can ring it, the door flings open, and Cyrus greets me.  And he’s wearing it.  He’s wearing his Space Otters shirt and the jersey we bought so we could match with each other.  He steps outside and closes the door behind him.  He smiles.  “I’m wearing them, just like you asked.”  He pauses for a second, tilting his head to the side with a puzzled look.  “You’re wearing them too?”  Then his whole face lights up like a Christmas tree.  “You’re wearing them too!”

I smile.  “Better late than never?”

He keeps smiling and nods.  “Dociously.”

I laugh and throw my arm around him and we start walking toward our perfect day.

  *******

We get to the park and I lead Cyrus over to some bushes.  “It’s over here somewhere,” I say, digging through the leaves and twigs.

“Um,” Cyrus says behind me.  “Did you lose something?”

“There it is!” I say.

“Never mind,” he shrugs as I turn around holding a frisbee.

I smile at him.  “All the time you supported the Space Otters, you were really there to support me, weren’t you?”

His face flushes red.  “Was it that obvious?”

I smile.  “Not until I opened my eyes.”

He shakes his head, playful.  “Well, you _can_ be slightly oblivious.”

I chuckle.  “ _Slightly?_ ”

He laughs and I ask him to take a knee.  He furrows his brow and narrows his eyes, but he does.

I take a step toward him and tap the frisbee once on each shoulder.  “Rise Cy-Guy, Official Honorary Space Otters Co-Captain.”

His face beams and he leaps up.  “You… you really mean that?”

I nod.  “We’re in this together now.”

He gives a sly smile and a shrug.  “Eh, we always kinda were.”

I smile.  The look on his face says it all.  Everything I’ve waited for.  We’ve waited for.  “Go long!” I say.  I thrust the frisbee into the air and the wind carries it halfway across the park before Cyrus takes off after it.

“Magociously!” he belts, arms flailing as he tries to catch up.

I jog after him, so I’m not too far behind in case he needs me.  But before too long, he catches up to it, all the way across the park.  He picks it up and flings his arms into the air in victory, then falls back against the grass.  I catch up to him and lay beside him and we both stare up at the sky.  Although… Cyrus is panting.  A lot.  “ _Honorary_ Co-Captain,” he says between pants.  “Was a… good idea.”

I smile and shake my head.  “You crack me up, Cy-Guy.”

“Always… have,” he pants, a twinge of sarcasm in his voice.

I turn my head to look at him and he does the same.  We lock eyes and his face is so close to mine.  So close I can feel the warm puffs of air float across my cheek.

“Hey Cy?” I say.

“J. B.?” he says back.

“Just for the record, I always secretly hoped you came to our games to support _me_.”

He smiles, and after a second, I feel his skin graze across my hand, followed by a light squeeze.  We lock our fingers together and look up at the sky again.  _We’re_ doing it.  _We’re_ holding hands.  For the first time.  This is what _we’ve_ both hoped for.  This is what we wanted.  This is what we want.


	8. InstaPic, Destroyer of Good Men

**Chapter 8**

**InstaPic, Destroyer of Good Men**

**Cyrus**

 

Okay, so maybe Jonah beat me to the whole _stop hiding_ thing, but whatever.  No B. D.  There are still plenty of people I can stop hiding with.  But for now, I’m just gonna sit here and watch these cat videos.  (I love how the pudgy cats look like a pillow.)  The next one’s about to play, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh, “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, CLOSE, CLOSE, CLOSE.  GO AWAY!”  I slam my laptop shut and fall back in bed, squirming all over.

“What happened!? Are you okay, Cy?” Jonah screams through FacePlace.

I scramble for my phone and hold it above my face.  I frown.  “Why do people post videos of cats playing with flamingos?”

His face morphs from anguish to astonishment and he laughs.  “Cy-Guy…” he says.

“I know, I know,” I cut him off.  “I crack you up.  Though flamingos are no laughing matter.”

He pipes down and his eyes grow to the size of wannabe dinner plates.  “Nope, not at all.”  He grins, but he’s trying at least.  And I know how ridiculous my fear of flamingos is so I laugh, which I guess gives him the go ahead to laugh some more.

We finish, and he says, “Okay, Cy.  I have some homework I need to finish before tomorrow.  Talk later?”

I nod.  “Do-“

“N’t steal my line.”  He smiles and I shake my head.  “Bye, Cy.”

“Bye, Jo.”  I hang up and toss the phone beside me.

Then it dons on me: I’m not just comfortable around him.  I’m comfortable _with_ him.  With him, I’m _me_.  And that’s how it’s always been.  I used to think only Andi and Buffy would like _me_ enough to be friends with _me_.  But Jonah was the first to prove that theory wrong.  Which followed with TJ.  Then Amber.  He proved I could be _me_ with anyone and everyone.  Even if I sweat in front of a camera.  Even if I puke in my shoe.  Even if I’m terrified of flamingos.  With him, I just get to be me.  And I’ve never wanted anything more than that.

  *******

So, I get to school on Monday, and I (practically) skip the rest of the way when I see Jonah standing at my locker.

We bump fists. (No B. D.) “Hey, Cy,” he says.  Then he gives a sly grin.  “Any more flamingoes find their way to you.”

“Haha, very funny,” I say, crossing my arms.  “No, though.  I, um, didn’t open the laptop to find out…”

He gives me a playful nudge and opens his mouth, about to speak.  He’s silent for a second, then says, “You thought I was gonna tell you how you crack me up, didn’t you?”

“Well, um… you kinda just did, so…”

“I…”  He scrunches his face, thinking.  “Yeah.  I guess I did, huh?”

I laugh, but he shrugs it off.  “Anyways, I kinda wanted to ask you something.”

I grin.  “Ask away.”

“Okay, so, um.” He hesitates for a second, but then spits the rest out.  “You wanna make _us_ official?”

 _Um… like since I first witnessed the rising of your dimples.  So, yeah.  But…_ “Are you absolutely sure you wanna do that.  You’ve never really liked labels.”  And I can’t let a silly label rip us apart now that we’re (sort of) together.

He rubs the back of his head and smiles uneasy.  “Actually,” he says.  “I think maybe that was because the labels were with the wrong people.”

I’m pretty sure both our faces ignite in the best possible way.  Too bad the warning bell ruins it.  I feel my face slump.

“Don’t worry,” he says.  “We can talk more about it after school.  Start with a hug for now?”

I nod, and we wrap our arms around each other.  He has a soothing warmth that radiates from him.  A hint of lavender shampoo tickles my nose.  It’s not our first hug – not even close.  But it’s the first where I don’t want to let go.  And the feeling is mutual – _we_ don’t let go.  The hallway is mostly empty, except for that girl Kira walking to class, face plastered to her phone again.  So, really, it is just us.  We don’t have to let go.

 _Ring_.  Until that happens…

We force ourselves apart and say goodbye, then jolt opposite ways down the hallway to get to class.  But it’s okay.  We may have had to let go for now, but nothing can keep us apart forever.

  *******

The bell chimes and school is over.  Time to go find Jonah.  I stride from class and pull out my phone as I head toward the front doors.  I try to text Jonah, but just before I get to the exit, a notification pops up from InstaPic: _KKdoubledribble tagged you in a pic._   I open InstaPic and my heart sinks. 

Two pictures: one of me and TJ at the Spoon, one of me and Jonah hugging this morning. 

The caption: Double dating, double trouble, double fakin’ #jms #jmsgirlsbasketball

A muck of bile coats my throat.  I can’t move.  I won’t.  Maybe if I just stand here, no one will see me.  Maybe if I just stand here, the cluster of hushed eyes on me will bore and look away.  Maybe if I just never move again, no one will know that Kira stole my coming out from me.

Andi and Buffy push through the crowd.  I’m pretty sure they’re trying to cheer me up, get me to come with them.  But I can’t move from this spot.  My legs won’t let me.

“Cyrus!” Jonah yells, his voice rife with panic.  He tears through the crowd and grabs me by the shoulders.  I’m pretty sure Andi and Buffy tell him that I’m frozen in this spot and won’t budge.  Which is almost true – it’s not that I won’t budge, it’s that I can’t.

He shakes me and I glance at him, his eyes a whisper of concern and a roar of anger.  I have to look away.  “Cy, I’m here.  I’m here and this will end.  I promise.  Just lemme get you out of here.”  His voice is gentle, unhinged.  And maybe he isn’t so oblivious anymore.  He used the same line I used to help him through his panic attack.  He remembered the line from way back then, which means he had to notice it – it had to mean something to him.  I have to mean something to him.

I creep my head up, but my eyes don’t meet his.  They meet TJ’s instead. He’s standing behind Jonah, just removed enough from the crowd.  He has the look of a deer in headlights; his fingers clenched around his phone, knuckles a pasty white.  He had no idea.  But I can’t look at him right now.

“Cyrus?” Jonah says and I fix my gaze on him.  Then back to TJ.  Then back to him.

Jonah turns his head and I feel his grip tense as soon as he sees TJ.

TJ whispers my name and that’s all I can take.  I pull away from Jonah and force my legs to carry me as fast as they can.  To a place where I can be alone.  A place where I can be invisible.  A place where I can be myself, by myself.


	9. This Will End

**Chapter 9**

**This Will End**

**Jonah**

 

“Cyrus, wait!”  I take off after him, but TJ opens his mouth.

“Why would she do this to him?” he says resigned.

My jaw stiffens and I clench my fists by my side.  “Why don’t you go ask her, she’s your new friend isn’t she?”  I turn to Andi and Buffy and tell them to check for Cyrus at the Spoon.  They nod and I push through the crowd.  I’ve gotta get to his house.  Now. 

So, I run.  I run out the doors, away from school, onto his street.  And I don’t care that I can’t breathe – Cyrus needs me.  He needs me because TJ let him down, because Kira is a despicable person, because he had something stolen from him that should always be his to give.  It was _so_ hard for him to tell me… I _have_ to find him.

I make it to his front door and I pant trying to catch my breath.  I ring the doorbell and wait.  And wait.  And wait.  And I finally hear the deadbolt unlocking, the doorknob twisting.  And Cyrus’s mom greets me.  “Hi Jonah, how are you?”

That’s a loaded question.  “I’m okay, thanks.  Um…”  I stop myself.  I’m about to tell her everything.  Tell her that Cyrus was outed, that he ran off, that I have to find him and make sure he’s okay.  But there’s a problem with that.  Cyrus isn’t out to his mom.  Cyrus doesn’t want to be out to his mom.  So, I can’t be the one to tell his mom.

She cocks her head to the side, raising an eyebrow.  “Is everything okay, honey?  You’re really out of breath…”

“Yeah.”  I nod and try to sell a smile.  “Yeah, everything’s fine.  I was just running and I wanted to see if Cyrus wanted to join me.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!  He really does need to get out and exercise more.  All those pudgy cat videos he watches are going to make _him_ pudgy.”  She laughs.  She laughs so much that she snorts.

“Heh…” I say, with a meek smile.

She collects herself and says, “But he’s not home yet.  He usually goes to the Spoon after school, maybe check there?”

I nod and say thanks.  She closes the door and I can hear her still laughing as I take off down the driveway.  The same driveway where I cried on his shoulder.  Where I knew Cyrus would always be there for me.  And now he needs me, or not so much me but a shoulder that he can cry on.  Someone who tries to get him as much as he naturally gets others.  I stop running.

And it hits me.  He’s _always_ there for me, for everybody he cares about, because he _always_ tries to get us.  He always tries to be there.

I get you, Cyrus.  And I’m gonna to try my best to get you more.

You’re not at home because you’re not ready to come out yet, so you can’t be seen like this.

You’re not at The Spoon because too many kids from school would go there, and you don’t want them to see _you_.

But there is a place you go to be _you_.  You told me about it at the Pancake Fundraiser.  I found you there once, just a few days ago.  And you were _you_.  Finding you there was no coincidence.  You go there when you wanna feel like _you_.  And I want you to know that you have always been you.  So, I have to get to the swing set.  I have to get to you.


	10. What's Said at the Swing Set...

**Chapter 10**

**What's Said at the Swing Set...**

**Cyrus**

 

This swing set is my place, like Andi Shack and Red Rooster are Andi and Jonah’s.  I can just lose myself, in myself.  And I can pull everything I’m feeling to the surface.

I guess I’m not “out” per se – all Kira did was spread a rumor.  A rumor that affects three people.  Three lives.  The same thing happening to me is happening to them.  And Jonah… a hug is a lot more convincing than a conversation in a booth.  I should have stood by him – he shouldn’t have to do this alone.  None of us should.  And me and TJ will never be the same again.  All because of a rumor.  All because of the truth.

The thing is, the things that are true, but out of our control, shouldn’t classify us as different, untouchable, irredeemable.  We can’t control those truths.  We just want to feel and experience the same things that “normal” people feel and experience every day.  That’s the saddest part of it all – because there is no such thing as someone who is completely “normal” so, what we want out of life as individuals shouldn’t determine how the world views us.  We’re all different.  We’re all normal.  We all want to be happy.

“Cyrus?” TJ says, and I look up.  Before I can say or do anything, he continues.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I had _no_ idea she would ever do something like that.  I hardly even know her.”

I nod.  “I know.  You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do want to apologize for something else.”  He draws a breath.  “I am so sorry I bailed on our costume.  You deserve so much better, Cyrus.  But I always find a way to ruin everything good I have going for me.”

His eyes are frail, stance slumped.  “Why did you do it?”

He hesitates and looks at the ground, closing his eyes.  He does this for a while, fists clenched, teeth gritted, muscles tensed.  But then he lets go.  He picks his head up.  He opens his eyes.  He speaks.  “Kira made a comment about me doing a costume with you instead of her.  And it scared me.”

My heart plummets.  “Because you thought I…”

“No,” he cuts me off.  “Not that.”  He gulps.  “Because I’m bisexual, Cyrus.”

I almost can’t believe what I’m hearing.  But it doesn’t change the fact that I hear it.  He trusts me.  He needs me.  So, I’m here.  I nod and he continues.  “And you’re the only person I’ve ever told.  The only person I’ve ever even considered telling.  The only person I can talk to like this.  So, I was scared because I didn’t want people to even potentially see me like that.  It’s just not the right time for people to see me like that.  I’m not ready to come out yet.”

I nod.  “I understand.  I’m gay, TJ.”

He smiles, just a twist.  “And for a long time, I hoped you’d say that.  I hoped that if you said that, it would be okay for me to say it too.  I hoped that if both of us said that to each other, I wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.”  He sighs.  “But then I realized that whether I came out or not, I never felt alone when I was with you.  And that’s something I never felt with any of my other _friends_.  You were different – are different – from all the rest, in the best possible way.  You’re my best friend, Cyrus.  And I think you’re my only true friend.  The closest thing I have to a brother.  And I like us just like that.  But I keep ruining it every chance I get.”  He looks down at the ground.  “I’m so sorry, Cyrus.  I really am.”

I stand up from the swing and take a few steps, until I can reach him.  “TJ,” I say.  He looks up and locks his eyes with mine.  He doesn’t need to be broken.  He doesn’t want to be broken.  And I don’t want him to be broken.  “You _are_ my brother.”  A glint sparkles in his eyes.  Hope.  “I was more terrified by that post, because I didn’t want that to change between us.  I don’t want that to ever change between us.  I love us exactly how we are.  But now that you’ve said all this, my fear is gone.  We can keep being the us that works on our own terms, no matter what.  No matter who, when, why, where, or how.  No matter.  Nothing can destroy the bond two brothers share.  Nothing will.”

And it’s like I can see everything TJ has carried with him dissipate, escaping his pores and vanishing as it hits the air.  “Then… we’re good?”

“Yeah,” I say.  “We’re good.”

He smiles.  I smile.  We smile.  Together.  “What’s said at the swing set…” he says.

“Stays at the swing set,” I finish.

He pulls me in for a hug, and whispers thank you in my ear.

“We’ve got this,” I say.  _Together._

As we pull away from the hug, I notice someone standing off in the distance.  Jonah.  And it looks like he’s panting.  Like he’s been panting for a while.  Like he’s about to panic.

TJ turns around to see what I’m looking at and says, “I should probably go apologize to Jonah, too.”

He takes a step, but I grab his arm to stop him.  “Wait.  I think something’s wrong,” I say.

Then Jonah spins around and starts running away.  I take off after him and yell over my shoulder to TJ.  “Go find Andi and Buffy!  Tell them Jonah needs us.”

He’s having another panic attack.  And I won’t let him go through that alone.


	11. Jyrus

**Chapter 11**

**Jyrus**

**Jonah**

 

I’m finally here.  I’m here Cyrus.  I’m –

TJ.

“They’re hugging… they’re… no.”

He sees me.

They see me.

I can’t breathe.

Everything collides, collapses, falls apart.

“I’m… too… late.  Always… too… late.  Never… see… what I have… until… it’s too late.”

I only have my thoughts, and they only betray me.  No comfort, only grief; no salvation, only devastation.

“But not… TJ.  Always there.”

Goodness is the lie, elusive as my freedom; freedom, my wish, will never be.

“But me… always fail.”

Never ending, always here.  This is me, real me.  I collide, collapse, fall apart.

“Having another… can’t be here… can’t be there… for me.”

I spin on my heel and run.  And run.  And run.  And the world twists and morphs around me.  But I run.  And my heart weeps.  But I run.  And my lungs whither.  But. I. Run.

I run from the school.  I run down the street.  I run through the park.  Until I collide.  Until I collapse.  My hands scrape across the coarse grass in the park, just barely saving my face from the same fate.  I thrash around trying to regain control, but all I can do is sit up.  My legs won’t let me stand.  My body is lead.  Sinking lead.  I’m stuck here.  And finally, I fall apart.

I never let myself know I needed to come out, and a stranger stole it away.  I failed Cyrus.  I always fail Cyrus.  I always fail.  I had something great.  _We_ had something great.  _I_ lost it.  _I’m_ not the friend he needs.  _I’m_ not the friend he _deserves_.  _I_ wanted the label.  _I_ don’t deserve the label.  _I. Don’t. Deserve_.  So, I am alone.  Always alone.  Before and after.  Always and forever.  Alone.  Alo-

“Jonah,” a voice yells.  “I’m on my way.”

A blob runs up to me.  The blob kneels.  The blob reaches out.  “I’m here and this will end,” the blob says.  The blob rests what feels like a hand on my shoulder.  The blob-hand squeezes.  The blob has to go.

“No!  Get away… get away from me!” I scream.

“No,” the blob says, smooth as silk.  “I’m not going anywhere.  I’m here and this will end.  _We’ll_ get through this.”

I taste the air again.  I focus on the blob.  The blob is Cyrus.  The same plush gaze from the Shiva.  _You’ll get through this._   That’s what he said then.  But now… _you’ll_ is _we’ll_.  _We’ll_ get through this.  _We’ll_.  Even though I wasn’t there when he needed me.  Even though I don’t deserve a Cyrus and Cyrus deserves far better than a Jonah.  Even through my mind’s civil war.  He said _we’ll_.  _We’re_ a unit, _we’re_ a couple, _we’re_ together.

I always wanted to be with Cyrus, even when I hid it from myself.  And he always wanted to be with me, even when he hid it from others.  _We_ both want this.  _We both want us_.

The Shiva.  So much goes back to the Shiva.  _I never knew I’d need a friend like you._   That’s what I said then.  And now.  “Cyrus, I don’t deserve a friend like you.”  Tears erupt and gush from my eyes.  He doesn’t say anything.  He just pulls me in close.  And I cry.  And cry.  And cry.

And while I cry, he says, “Yes you do, Jonah.  And I will be here for every single one if that’s what it takes.”

The Shiva, again.  _I wish you could be here for all of them_.  He remembered.  So long after, he remembered.  He remembered my problems from his grandmother’s Shiva.  He remembers.  He remembers because he wants to.  He remembers because he cares.

My face tucked into the groove of his shoulder; I feel his body shift.  “You tripped over the frisbee, didn’t you?” he asks.  I pull my head up to look.  The frisbee lay on the ground at my feet.  He looks at me, a sparkle in his eyes.  “When did you get clumsier than me?”  He grins.

I laugh.  I laugh and I can breathe, and see, and think.  I laugh and I’m free.  He did it again.  And he laughs, too.  _We_ laugh.  Together.

And when we’re done, he waits for me to speak.  So, I do.  “I’m sorry, Cy.”

He raises an eyebrow.  “For what?”

“After you took off, I was so worried about you.  I ran all the way to your house, but you weren’t there.  Then I realized that the swing place is where you go to clear your head – like Red Rooster for me.  So, I ran all the way there.  And when I saw you with TJ… I panicked.  I thought I was too late to be there for you.  Cause I’m always too late to be there for you.”  I sigh.  “At the Shiva, I told myself I was going to be there for you more, like you are for me.”  My head droops.  “But I let you down again.”

“Jonah,” he says, and I look up.  His eyes are set ablaze.  “Let me make sure I’ve got this right.  You’re apologizing to me because you were so worried about me that you _ran_ all the way to my house and then _ran_ all the way back to school when you realized I wasn’t there because it was so important to you to that you made sure I was okay?”

I nod.  “Yeah and… oh… well when you put it that way…”

“It sounds like something only a really docious magocious boyfriend would do.”

 _Did… did he?_   “ _B_ - _boyfriend_?”

He smiles and nods.  “You know the great thing about you, JB?  You broke me out of my shell so much when we met, I made more friends than I ever thought I’d have.  And they can be there for me when you’re running around town trying so hard to be there for me.  That’s all thanks to you.”

I feel my lips tremble.  I don’t know what to say.  I don’t know what to do.  No.  I do.  I know what to say and do.  And this time, I’m not hiding.

“Cy-Guy?”

“Yup?”

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes pretty much triple in size.  “Dociously.”  His face lights up.  I know mine does, too.  We lean in.  We press our lips together.  And we kiss.  And as we do, the thundercloud that’s followed me my whole life explodes into sunshine.  I finally _feel_ like the human sunbeam Cyrus likes to call me.

We finish, and Cyrus jumps to his feet, extending a hand.  I grab hold and he hoists me from the ground.

Then, what sounds like a crowd of people joins together saying, “AWWWWWWWWW!”

We turn toward the crowd, and sure enough, Andi, Buffy, TJ, Amber, Libby, and Marty are all admiring the view.  And I can’t blame them.  _We’re_ quite the view.

I wrap my arm around Cyrus and we take a few steps closer to them.

Andi smiles.  “I’m _so_ happy for you both.”

Buffy grins.  “Took you two long enough!”

Marty laughs.  “I can think of someone who took longer…”

Buffy blushes.  A lot.

TJ nods.  “You did good man.”

Cyrus shakes his head, face flushed red.

Amber says, “I’m glad you’re happy.”

Libby signs, “I’m glad you followed your heart.”

Cyrus and I look at each other and nod.  We look back at them and say and sign together, “Us too.”

 _Us_.  _Us_ is so much more than I could ever want.  _Us_ is _everything_ I could ever ask for.

“Now there’s just one thing left to do,” Buffy says, her face suddenly serious.  “Get even with Kira.  Ideas?”

“Yeah, I have the perfect idea,” Cyrus says, without hesitation.  “Let’s do this Good Hair Crew Style.”


	12. Good Hair Crew Style

**Chapter 12**

**Good Hair Crew Style**

**Cyrus**

 

“So, you’re saying you just want to _ignore_ Kira, after what she did?” Buffy ask-tells.

“Yeah,” Andi says, “Is that _really_ a good idea?”

I smile.  “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.  And it’s _the only idea_.”

The whole group stares at me like I have four heads.  Except Jonah.  He gives my shoulder a light squeeze.  He’s got my back.  And they will too.

I clear my throat and smile again.  “Giving Kira _any_ attention is exactly what she wants.  It’s what any bully wants.  Attention.  Power.  But if we ignore her, we don’t give her attention.  We don’t give her power.  We get those things instead – because we stay true to _us_.”

The group displays all manner of cocked heads and furrowed brows.  But Jonah gives my shoulder another squeeze.  I look him in the eye and he grins.  A calmer grin than I’ve ever seen on him.  Human sunbeam lite.  “You’ve got this, Cy.  _We’ve_ got this.”  I smile and turn back to the Good Hair Crew (Plus).

 _“Us_ ,” I say, and let out a deep sigh.  “We all have the best kind of friendship: we’re all proud of who each other is and we all accept each other for the good and the bad.  So, if we get back at Kira, we’ll lose all of that.  _We’ll_ _lose us_.”

The cocked heads and furrowed brows start to fade.  “ _Us_.  The Good Hair Crew, one: seems to have doubled in size.”  (They all snicker.)  “And two, is made up of people who aren’t afraid of being _us._   We don’t stoop to the level of bullies, and in fact, I feel bad that Kira feels the need to be a bully.”  (They mostly scoff.)  “But at the end of the day, she does just because she isn’t getting the attention she actually wants to get for the right reasons.”  (They rescind the previous scoff.)  “And at the end of our day, taking revenge will only force us to give up being the Good Hair Crew.”

“Force us to give up being _us_ ,” Jonah says.  It’s my turn to give his shoulder a squeeze.

They’re all starting to smile now.  They’re starting to get it.  “Before all this,” I say.  “I hardly had the courage to tell my best friends that I was gay.  Even though that’s just one piece of the whole Cyrus Goodman.”  They’re much more than starting to smile now.  “But now… now I choose to see the good in this.  The good in what Kira did.  Before this, I thought coming out would be terrifying.  But what it actually feels like – what it actually is – is that I don’t have to hide a part of myself anymore.  It feels like I don’t have to be scared of being me.  And I feel like I can tell my family the truth now because they love me.  And you’ve all shown me the power of love.”

They’re all smiling now.  And I can feel the sunbeam beside me practically radiating energy.  I have to keep going.  I want to.  “When my Bubbi Rose passed away, I learned that I shouldn’t be so afraid of living the truth because that fear kept her from knowing the whole me before it was too late.  And life is too short for us to be anything other than one-hundred percent authentic, because being one-hundred percent authentic is the only way we can ever hope to be one-hundred percent happy.”

Jonah nudges me and we give each other a quick smile and nod.

I turn back to them, all their eyes expectant, smiles spread across their faces.  “We’re the Good Hair Crew.  Period.  We’re the people who stand by each other no matter what.  The people who tell each other about our whole selves because we don’t have to be afraid as long as we’re together.  We’re the people who learn from our mistakes and work together to be better every day.  We’re the people who never give into the ones who don’t like us for who we are, because being who we are is what makes us happy.  We’re the people who are happy.  Really, _really_ happy, because we’ve got each other.  We’ve got _us_.  We have everything we want…”

“And everything we could ever need…” Jonah adds.

“Because we’ll _always_ have each other…” I say.

Jonah gives my shoulder one more light squeeze.  He rests his head against mine and I don’t have to see his smile to know it’s there – not only on the outside, but on the inside now too.  He lets out a soft sigh of relief.  “And what more could _we_ possibly ask for?”


End file.
